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April 21, 2019
Do you know why I sign ASL with my left hand? I feel like I have written this or told this enough people already know; however, I sign ASL with my left hand because my right hand does not have full function in that I am unable to sign the letter Y. My ring finger does not close to make a Y. Do you know when this happened?
In Oregon, we had a hallway with a coat closet on the second floor. It had a handle not a knob, one afternoon as a teen I was walking from my bedroom down the hallway – brain-thinking – my right hand hit the handle leaving my right hand with a bruise that covered my whole hand. I did not think much of it at the time. Maybe I am just clumsy, although I know that wasn’t true. I have to tell myself all the time now, don’t walk into things. Brain-thinking.
The character that kills her and himself if probably based off of a real person who – this is what it looks like when I look at it quickly – wanted to impress a real serial killer by harming someone that a real serial killer liked. It could be in connection to the real Hannibal Lecter, or someone else. I haven’t been able to work it or study it.
It is the most I got from the movie Patch Adams as I was not able to watch much doing housework. I think it is probably obvious people thought of me as Patch Adams. Me, trying to understand the proxies who are talking to me, and, well, laughter does reveal beautiful inside a person.
Larry, the name has been mentioned in other movies, I have not worked it yet, he is a character from television. It the most I have gotten so far.
I know I have been therapy to people before, people watching me interact with children. Watching the children light up being around me, the movie poster for Lion is from a real photograph of me in a Christian theater group with a little boy I baby-sat for nearly running up to me on stage, Nullah from Australia.
Grateful, he could still be included. Wouldn’t he be? I saw him in her as I started to watch the film. Pain, loss, and sadness are hard to hide. Clown noses from me at Circus World being chosen from the audience as a teen-ager, thirteen, maybe I was, just walking and climbing up the ladder of the trapeze like I belonged there owning the entire tent making the audience laugh. There is never enough laughter in the world. The good honest laughter, the laughter that is so good you don’t want it to stop. I always used to see if I could get someone to the point of laughter, they would forget the world around them.
Jimmy Looks Twice from Thunderheart is me, it is why he gets away. It is why his back is turned to the camera as he gets away. Looks Twice, a mirror. Me as a mirror of other people. It almost looks like a ravine he jumps into, brook Cherith, and jump, looks like a – break. Like a code to disperse. Break-apart, been spotted that sort of thing.
I have been working with intelligence persons all my working adult life, and it started when I was just a child. My be married dress, brushing my hair seeing that this neighbor was really an intelligence man and lethal, sometimes they have to kill us from Thunderheart is not referring to killing Native Americans, seeing he was a good man who took care of our country for all the world. It’s why there is a little girl in 12 Strong because that’s me, you need to learn Spanish Daddy, that’s Mexican Vanilla. Ice, Ice Baby, Vanilla Ice, does this look like the Russian in The Spy Next Door to anyone? It’s probably what someone, a former felon, thought of me, this little girl who could understand Russian. For some men it would have felt like home, made them homesick in a way. To be able to speak their native tongue.
All the time my mother was in a hospital or nursing home nearly every single nurse – every single nurse – had a packet of cigarettes in her pocket. I think people just have not understood that the Oracle and Neo from the movie The Matrix are really the same person, and the kitchen is just a brain-palace, brain-thinking and so on. The cigarette smoking is just a measure of time, slow, methodical, like fog, brain-space.
If anyone thought showing me props, would actually get me to thinking, I am well beyond my years with such small thinking. It’s like asking someone if they’ve noticed in the nuclear explosion their standing in, if a piece of lint was out of place. It is the closest comparison to show the differences of importance, meaning, and depth of understanding.
Who was that SOB last night? Trying to manipulate my feelings and emotions with virtual reality?
After the incident at the church in Damascus, Oregon we went to (his MO is to mess with people heads from the movie Thunderheart is not a Native American this is a white male who worked nights with my father who also went to that church) I hid in my closet one Sunday morning therefore escaping going to church that day. My mother soon changed churches we went to, we started going to another church that was much closer to us. I really can make things happen.
It really is subversive work having us move from California to Oregon, my father working nights, so that I never got to spend time or know my father growing up. I never saw him. I have very few memories of him, I think it is probably why they’ve placed him in a lot of movies. Like they were trying to make him – disappear – that’s subversive.
Wanting to take away the American DREAM from the fifties. Home-ownership, buying stocks, this is some old thinking that still has roots here. The American DREAM.
To me it just looks, moronic, not skill, or skillful, moronic. Dumb. There is a flatness to it, to them, in their eyes, in their thinking, in their person, in their personality, flat. As if that could hide their thinking.
I’ve written for an hour, it never seems enough, and it never feels complete.
My mother was like a super-hero to me, I really never knew my father growing up. Hasn’t every child looked at their parent at least once and wondered, how did they do that?
Such sadness. When happiness is really not that difficult for all to have and achieve.
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