Coffee and Breakfast

August 9, 2018

Day 1, 591

From Birth Men Born Males Only, No Trans, No Skirt Wearing Fairies, No Gay.  No Women Allowed.  I Am the Only Woman.

As I am completely unable to understand the purpose, the point, and the reason for my life these years, I do not apologize for the exclusions.

 

Since the last thing I want to do is clean endlessly, clean my house, do dishes, or vacuum I am holding off until the last possible moment.

For it is the last time we meet here, you and I, we will never see each other again in person.  Not ever.  What was once found is not sustainable in this way, in this life.  I will never willingly go to you again.  You failed to understand how bad it is for me – here and now.

It is a cool day, we are indoors.  We greet each other with kisses on the cheek as if we are old friends.  You are the same handsome, good-looking man wearing a belt with your pants as I have never been a woman who ever looked at a man with his ass hanging out of his pants.  With my hair and makeup done making men want to know more about me because of how I look, I wear a dress that clings to my skin it doesn’t take long to notice I have no panty lines.  You notice the shape of my bosom at my age does not hang down.  It looks as if I could choke on them if I laid down with my head unelevated.  As I walk in, you wonder how many men have imagined me wearing only the boots I am wearing because I am so thin and sexually desirable.  You have never seen me look better.

We share a slice of boysenberry pie and coffee because I no longer remember what that tastes like.  In the past we would each have had a slice that time is gone at the moment.  And, you let me talk.  You listen.

Telling you about all the bad dates, I’ve had.  The one in Orlando that felt so wrong to me, I told my brother where I was going, so that if something happened to me someone would know where I last was because I could not understand what was wrong there.  How the first thing I asked him in person was his age, how he tried to take me back to his place and I refused because something was so terribly wrong yet made no sense.

How Murphy stands with his tail so tall, it is longer than his body, straight up in the air with just the bit at the end that turns left to right, left to right as if he thinks from his tail…what to do?  Run and fly through the air because Cherith likes it?  Roll on the floor like the picture Cherith has in her head of Thursday back in January 2015 when she was feeling so bad, he walked over to her to make her feel better, stretching out in front of her, in front of the verticals?  Play with a toy to make Cherith laugh and feel better?  Run and play with Maurice?  How Murphy has the most spectacular eyes of such unusual color and size for his body.

How Maurice has discovered how much fun it is to play with the feather toy.  Knocking the bird out of the air.

How Lambert talks and talks and talks every morning.  How Lambert is the gorgeous one.  How he guards every doorway when I move from room to room.  How he looks so much like a sphinx, however, not like any sphinx I’ve ever seen with his paws crossed in front of him, his chest up, his head held in such a way, noble, calm, serene, although he is only a moment away from being lethal.  He is the protector of all.  How he is one of the fastest cats bringing the feathered toy to the ground.

How it is not only Maurice that follows me from room to room.  How Maurice, Lambert, and Murphy are so much happier when I am home because my house is such a lonely place.

How Thursday used to sit in front of my yoga mat every time I exercised, putting his paws on it, playing with it as though he wanted and was happy to be with me in this way.  How I used to put him in another room, so I could get the work-out done.

How I used to play a version of hide and seek with Tuesday and Thursday, running after me.  How they thought that was so much fun.  Run, run, run after to me, then look up to me…do we do it correctly?  Goody!  Let’s do it again!

How, Thursday went running out of the house I used to have, got stuck in a tree and I had to get a ladder to get him down.

How I love the legs on Maurice, Lambert, and Murphy.  And, Thursday.

How Maurice is the all-meat boy, he is nothing but pure meat and when he runs I giggle at his fur coat that falls away from his body when he trots.  How the paws on Maurice are so adorably rounded he could never be anything but the stable, handsome, provider of a husband if he were to marry.

How Lambert is pure muscle.  Long, lean muscle legs with fea-v-ers (feathers) at his back haunch.

How Murphy’s legs are so nicely shaped and sized, he too has short fea-v-ers (feathers) on his haunches.

I just want to take each of them and gnaw and gum on their gorgeous legs.  I just love them so.

How I wonder who was the person who told my brother to buy me Cleopatra and Lawrence of Arabia DVD’s now?

It is time for us to leave now.  You try to tell me about your feelings.  But, I remind you that you never cared for me, you never loved me.  There has always been another woman and women.  You never loved me enough.  That if there was a time for us it has been too many years and too long ago gone and lost to ever be again.  You know it to be true.

So, we never meet again.

Star Wars

The opportunity has long been lost.  You should never have allowed people access or permission.  You failed to achieve.  You failed in concept.  You have failed in performance.  You failed in decision making.  You failed in your hiring process.

I have never been hired by you.  I turned that down years ago.

I have seen the last Star Wars.

I will not go to another.

Natural Photographer

I believe I am a natural photographer.  As a mere child, I took some of the most interesting photographs.  Creating God rays, as I call them by shooting at the sun straight on.  As a child.

As an adult, I bought a camera and started taking photographs wherever I went.  Angles.  Skyward.  Colors.  Images.  A natural photographer.

My Art teacher in college talked about photography for a reason.

It has been taken away from me because someone has destroyed my camera and camera’s.

The Family Boss

This is who I always have been, the family boss, the one who made all the decisions.  It was the only way I was able to keep the family functioning.  I did all the driving because I was the only one I could trust to do it correctly.  Driving is something that has been taken away from me in all of this, I no longer have that ability anymore because of the Bluetooth, because of the driving game, because of the damage that has been done inside my brain and head.

Running man, you are in the rightful place.  You need to understand that.  It is time.  You knew it when you started and allowed all of this.

Running man, please do not tell me that what I saw slim brother was the truth.  In so much as he did not have a choice or option of Universities.  It makes me sick.

Running man, I want to know why I am still these days later – still sick in my stomach?

Running man, running men, let me tell you of the loose town.  First there is nothing wrong with going along with a request that is being asked of you.  It is not the same as being in agreement.  There is not now nor will there ever be country in my family.  It is not who we are.  If you understood west coast thinking you would already know that.  I knew with absolute certainty he would not be happy there.  I was correct.  In a few months, he began to unravel.  Please do not tell me who to blame.  I am already too upset.

There can be no les.  No lesbian.  No lesbians.  That is all the proof I need to give, however, there is so much more.

The arrogance of the people I met in loose town were pathetic to me.  The real estate agent who said he was glad I made the trip since I was the family boss.  He was of no help.  I found the place for my brother to stay that should have been his only residence.  The head of his department whom I was immediately dissatisfied with.  Immediately.  Here is a man who is supposed to be intelligent, and what?!  He doesn’t even like my own brother?!  I wanted to punch him in the face and in the balls within seconds.  It was all I could do to remain civil in his workplace.  A man who offered my brother a job yet doesn’t even like him?!  I wanted to punch him in the face and in the balls.  There is nothing wrong with that.  The professor who we had Christmas dinner with – this is difficult to put in words – I wanted to leave immediately.  She is a person who places all her work, thinking, credibility on the test scores, GPA, her degrees and diplomas, then does nothing with her thinking afterwards.  It is vulgar and disgusting to me.

They knew I was not happy in loose town this is why my brother tried to tell me of the Country Club and such places there.  How could I be happy when what I saw were people hiding behind the bushes, talking civil to your face then saying something else once your out of ear shot.

Let me tell you what I’ve been seeing because I do not know how else or who else to escribe this problem.  Code is meant to be communication.  Code is meant to be a way to speak, give information, to talk to specific persons only.  Code is not meant for every person.  Ah, duh.  What I have been seeing in my brainwaves has been a convolution disguising itself as intelligent intellect.  It is not.  There is such a redundancy it is maddening.  It is the stuff of pencil pushing when it is action that is best and required.  It is the stuff of asking and demanding for a book report when bending at the waist is the call of the day.

Running man, running men, I do not believe anyone understands how these years have worn my sharp mind to a nub.  How would any person be able to continue and live with a governor placed within them limiting the vastness of imagination and possibilities?

I understand the muse concept, I disagree 100% with it.  If only for the fact of how it has damaged me.  I understand food choices find itself in a movie, masturbation finds itself in a love scene in a movie, word choices with the writing on the wall finds its way into a movie.

However, there is no excuse for making me live all alone like this.  None.  I am living the life I wanted to get away from.  So, why am I not living in my own home?  Where I had already made a home.  It is not possible to make a home in this place.  You know why.

There is one thing I will not comment upon, too easily for it to be misinterpreted, misread, misunderstood, and turned into something it is not.

I found nothing useful in the news today.

Why is that?

I think it is important to share this, for some reason when writing my Coffee and Breakfast’s I had been imagining a place, a house, a property with land and expanse because I saw myself with a large family.  I didn’t see myself alone.  I created a main house in my head with other buildings such as the kitchen/entertaining building in part because I wonder if it is more cost efficient to heat and cool smaller buildings rather than a massive estate, in part because I felt it would help to have separate places with so many people about.  I don’t know why I think that, but I have always been surrounded by people before.  When I lived on my own before I had friends and people.  It is a terrible crime to keep someone all alone as this.  Like a hostage.  Like a slave.  Like a prisoner.

Depressing.

Coffee and Breakfast: August 8, 2018

August 8, 2018

Day 1, 590

Male Born Men Only, Beards Only.  No Fairy, Gay, No Skirt Wearing, Surgically Altered Men Allowed.

I will not apologize for the preface.  This is not discrimination.  This is about correctness.

Currently I am doubled over with severe stomach cramps.  Why?  I have no idea.  This has happened repeatedly.  All I am able to think of it is nothing but pure meanness at my expense.

All these years, my entire life only amounts to dollar signs in someone else’s eyes.  What I buy.  Placing women in front of me as if they could ever be a purchase.  Placing men in front of me for the same purpose.

I am beyond disheartened.  It is beyond repulsive to me.  It is mortifying.  It is shameful.  I am so sickened.  What hope could I ever have for a life living in this way?

I am beyond words.  Being made to live for years without love at all.  Being made to live for years without being able to make love to a man in the flesh.  For the entire purpose of setting me up on fake dates that was nothing more than placing names on food products as if people could or should ever be bought or purchases.  It’s…it’s…it is so sick in its concept the fact that I have had to live in this way it is not something I would ever do.  Because of what it places in the world throughout the universe.

I am nothing more than a something to these people.  A something to consume.  A something to push food in her mouth.  A something to watch et nauseum endless movies with pieced together editing and dialogue trying to make me believe a something that isn’t true.

Not to mention the photograph of my cat that someone has distorted that I will not change because I am still so distraught.

I am so unbearably heart-broken, sick with grief, and distraught.  Why should I possibly continue?

I no longer have a purpose in life.

These Are Supposed to Be Smart People

These are supposed to be smart people, yet they have made the greatest and gravest of mistakes with me.  I am unable to believe that because I did not give people the reaction or dialogue they wanted that I failed.  The mistake is theirs alone.  I am unable to believe that because I have more than once diffused an extremely volatile happening while being watched that I failed.

These are supposed to be smart people.  I have more than once spoken of the need to overhaul the military, its culture, its governing practices, and ideology.  More than once.  Decades ago, I knew it was far behind the times to place our nation in its rightful position.  Decades ago.  As I see it there is still a need, it is still lacking.

Partially it is a regional problem.  A thinking, a culture that has yet to get with the program, in a matter of speaking.  The days of being regional have been changed with the internet.  Allowances made because of acceptance of thinking rather than correcting the thinking and disallowing it to continue.

An example, my Creative Writing teacher in college – whether it is real or not or merely trying to see a reaction I am uncertain; however, this is true – told me she was astonished – not the exact word – at how quickly my writing had improved from the first assignment to the next.  There is nothing wrong with that.  It has to do with exposure.  Because they failed to understand that mind’s like mine worked in such a manner.  It is not a typical academic mind.  No, I cannot give them any credit.  They knew better and did nothing to prevent certain people.  They knew otherwise.

These are supposed to be smart people, yet they have let their ideology become greater.

They are wrong.

They are out of excuses with me anymore.