Category: Uncategorized

When I first brought home my three cats from the shelter, I was and am still grieving for my Thursie and Toots McGoots.  Thursday and Tuesday.

Sitting at my computer one day, Murphy, this orange and white cute guy of a cat.  Because Murphy is 100% guy.  G-U-Y.  He is all boy and has no problem whatsoever being cute or loving.  Jumped into my lap, curled up purring, and stayed there.

I wept.

Immediately.

I started weeping.

My mother.  How much my mother would have loved to have known a cat like Murphy.  It is what she wanted in a cat, a companion to keep her company.

Some know this story.  My mother had strokes for years.  Mini-strokes.  What was I to do?  I had to respect her wishes.  She didn’t always follow the doctor’s orders.

Once I called the police because she had gone driving, I have no idea how she was able to drive and drive back home.  Not a joke.  True story.  Her head…was, well…she was being protected I saw in her returning home.

When I saw the movie Matrix at the theater, I went because I was invited by a friend.  However, I was uneasy.  A social life is important, so I went.  I called my mother after the movie to check on her, she told me she was fine.  I didn’t believe her.  There was nothing else in her voice to tell me otherwise, I just did not believe her.

Driving home, I was – like a tightening in my lungs where I couldn’t expand my lungs to breathe, I was worried.  I didn’t know what to do.

I found my mother sitting down in the sun room looking out the sliding glass doors.  Her back was to me.  I was talking to her, it wasn’t until I walked in front of her that I saw the skin on the left side of her face had slid off.  Snowball was sitting next to her in the chair.  Curled up next to her because Snowball knew there was something wrong, she did what she could.  She stayed with my mother and didn’t move.

What to do?  How to react?  It was a mini-stroke.

I have not been able to forget the picture it created for me.

At first it looks peaceful.  Looking out the window at the scenery.  Sitting, enjoying the view.  It isn’t until I was able to face her that I saw the destruction and the killing.

I am fucking pissed as hell!

I want another job.

Do you know if I was able to be in the real world I could go to the police and file a report about persons, then I would be able to have a restraining order against them?  I could have them locked up.  Then, they would not be able to be apart of my life, my job, my employment, my electricity, internet, or have any information or contact with me.

This is what this life feels like.

Why is there not more outrage about me be subjected to a hands-only life?!

Why is there not more anger and upset that I am not allowed to have physical relationships with men?

I want another job!

Beyond fucking mad about having someone push in on my brain with “feelings” THAT I DO NOT SHARE!

Having persons being allowed to view and watch me naked THAT I DO NOT KNOW WHO IS WATCHING ME NOR DO I CONSENT IN ANY MANNER!

Knowing someone is putting something in my brain IS NOT THE SAME AS SHARING OR RECRIPRICATING THE FEELING OR EMOTION!!!!

I am fucking mad as hell!

I am not in love with anyone or like with anyone or ANY EXPERIENCE!!!

I am fucking pissed!

I want another job!

It will not now nor, will it ever be a woman that I want to sleep, have sex, or any other form of sexual relationship!

I have a right to decide who I want in my bed – IT WILL NEVER BE A WOMAN!!!!

Are you fucking kidding me?!

How many years do I have to live like this?!

How is this something that is allowed to happen?!

I was born straight!  Fuck off!

This is not discrimination!

I have a right to my own body!

So, for clarification there should never be anything but straight, single men with vision.

However, the glasses shouldn’t be there to begin with!!!

I shouldn’t be subjected to this life!

Can you imagine what it is like for me – it amounts to the same as RAPE!

The kitchen is still closed.

Frame your question correctly, you will get a better answer.

I want another job.

Looking at my Lambert this morning, he is still a skinny kid on the street begging for food.

If you have ever been poor, if you have ever been really poor, gone without food for days – it never really leaves you.

Thinking that if I waited until morning to write this I would have cooled down.  That is not what has happened.

I want another job.

I am fucking pissed.

I want another job.

I want another job.

I want another job.

I want another job.

I want another job.

I want another job.

I want another job.

See, if my posts change any time soon.  This is all you will see here anymore.

The events of last night mean nothing to me after placing my job in jeopardy.  It is ALWAYS how I see, it is known, I have written about it since the first time it happened.

I was told to make a purchase, now I am penalized for it?!

Do you think I am going to sign up for the blood drive now?

Do you think I am going to buy toilet paper now?

Do you think I am going to buy a t-shirt now?

Whose money is it anyway?!

I have a right to decide what purchases I want to buy!

This man I saw on the side of the road.  This man that comforted me.  We are through.  You will have to win me back.  It will NEVER be virtually.

I have said and written and written and said since this started back in 2013 – IT WILL NEVER BE VIRTUALLY.

Follow this thinking – I have faith.  I believe in God.  I DO NOT have a sexual or physical relationship with him.

It is a huge fucking difference.

A physical relationship – is physical.

They played Justin Bieber on my tablet when I arrived home – BJ = blow job.  I am not impressed.  I am beyond not happy.

Worlds happen for me in less than a moment and you expect a paragraph of a few words to be sufficient?!

I am fucking pissed.

CARE = CA = California, ER = emergency room.  Because I was born in California to two white parents, my mother and father – Not a black woman.  Not an African-American woman.  I know my own parents.  I am 46 years old, I do not wear diapers, I am not a baby.  I am more than mad.

You can take my name, my first name and my last name, they equal sixteen letters.  It is the first password at The Container Store.

You can take my first, middle, and last name, they equal twenty-two letters.  Somehow, I am supposed to believe this means after my Tuesday.  I called her Tu-Tu.  22.  Tuesday had the killer instinct.  Thursday wanted to show me animals he found.

Thursday used to catch tree frogs from inside the garage, put them in his mouth without harming it, mewing to me the whole way, plop it on the floor, as if to say, look, see what I found.  Most times the frogs survived Thursday playing with it.  Putting his boo-boo paw on top of the frog, proud and satisfied that he had done a good thing.

I am not impressed.

What are my ex-neighbor’s doing in the building?!

What are my ex’s doing in the building?!

Forget the wax-man, I will not be writing that story.

Forget any of the men and people who have inspired me to write, I will not be writing any of those stories.

I am at a creative stop-hold.

I will not now nor ever watch a movie and change my attire!

I will not now nor ever watch a movie or listen to a song and believe it is about me!

I will not begin to describe what they do to my beauty products.  They do so that no man will find me sexually desirable.

I want another job!

I feel like nothing more than a sex slave!

I want another job!

There is no reason why I cannot have a job that can pay me enough money that I can live.  I am making the same pay rate I made when I was eighteen years old!  28 years later I am still making the same wage?!

There is no reason for that!

I want another job!

Yeah, I have zero tolerance.  I will not apologize for that.

Zero tolerance.  Proven.  Take away your mind tricks, I still have zero tolerance.  PROVEN!

I will remind you, my blinds being closed – not a good sign.  Not all clear.

If I go a day without writing – not a good sign.  Not all clear.

Creating more work, more problems, more barriers for me to work around?!  NOT ALL CLEAR!

What a terrible way to manage when things are not working just keep pushing work, pushing work, more work, more work, more work, more work, and expect the same result?!

I will remind you, a person cannot marry themselves?!

A person cannot marry a car?!

A person cannot marry a tire?!

I will never again believe this marriage lie!

I have simply NOT BEEN ALLOWED TO MEET MEN!

Love, emotions, they cannot exist in a vacuum.

You cannot have a love story with multiple men pretending to be one man!

IT WILL NEVER BE A WOMAN!

I have a right to decide who I want in my bed!

This is like telling a gay person that they are only allowed to sleep with straight people.  It is the equivalent.

I will remind you, since I have said and written these multiple times – nothing that has happened in my bed has ever made it to my heart.

You believe me simple and dumb.  I am not.  It will NEVER happen virtually!

I am done, done, done, done done, with that man on the side of the road.  He will have to win me back.  Although, I will never believe it, I know what I look like.

Since, I have been followed since I was a teen-ager it is known that I will always – let a man go.  So, do not be surprised.  They set it up this way.  They staged “romance” that was never real, so there could be a break-up that is also not real.

Whose lame-ass idea was it to make me sick?!  So, you could have a contest to see what medicine I would buy?!

I am not a game!

My heart and mind are not a toy, a game, or a contest!

I want another job.

I reserve the right to be angry and upset about being made fun of, ridiculed, mocked, laughed at, and seen as simple and dumb in the press.

You cannot force a story to be written.  You have no right to demand or require it of me at my paying job.  You cannot demand or force someone to write – FOR FREE!

This is what they expect of me, work a 10-hour shift, drive an hour each way there.  A 12-hour shift that I only get paid for 10.  Then, go home and write for 5 or 6 hours for free, and want for nothing else in your life.  This life has been going on since 2012.  Six years going on seven, I have a right to want something different.

I want another job.

I will not apologize for deleting the apps and not reading the news because of it.  It is not the same in any way as reading news stories, hearing gossip and being able to dismiss it.  Because these news stories have an effect on my personal life, my bank account, and my mind.

I will not apologize for it.

I will not apologize for my language or use of the f-word.

I want another job.

MAGA – Make America Great Again.  I cannot believe someone thought this through or was a good idea.  Do you have any idea what it implies?!  MAGA?!  So, America has somehow fallen on hard times.  This picture that is created with this slogan is that America is a lame and crippled country trying to get back on its feet rather than a great country capable of great work throughout the world.

Rather than creating a picture of America being the country that EVERY country in the rest of the world – NEEDS.  I will say and write no more.

I will remind you my name is NOT America.

I have said this for months and months, the numbers are too high!

I will not go and stress over the numbers – THAT ARE NOT REAL!

There is no reason WHATSOEVER I should have to worry about my job!  Let me get another job then!

What is with the cock-watching anyways?!  I do not have to look at a man’s crotch when I can look at him and have no question about his equipment.

I am fucking pissed!

I want another job.

I want another job.

I want another job.

I want another job.

I want another job.

I want another job.

I want another job.

I want another job!

I want another job!

I want another job!

I want another job!

I want another job!

I want another job!

I want another job!

Am I the only one seeing this?!

I am not the only person in the world who can see this?!

Am I?!

No.

There are other people like me who can see people.

Let me share with you one of my memory techniques I used in college that was particularly helpful in my World Art class.

I could superimpose images over top of a painting in my head such as dates and names.  Following over the lines or brushstrokes of the painting I could keep information in my head that way.  However, it only retained the information in my short-term memory.  I cannot go back now, look at a painting and remember the date it was painted or the painter that painted it.

I still don’t feel like eating or creating food.  This is a problem for me.

I am very unhappy with the color of my roots.  I would think this shouldn’t concern anyone, however, here I am having to write about it.  It is not yet finished.

Now, I discover I am being ripped-off by Insta-cart.  How do I get that corrected?!

Let me caution, the sun is not always a bad thing.  Yes, protect yourself with sunscreen from the sun’s rays, but the sun kills viruses.  So, sometimes when you are not feeling well it is a good thing to let the sun dry up mucus, give you some vitamin D and warm your bones.

Please understand, I have not forgotten people I have seen, stories I would love to share with you.  Don’t think I didn’t see you wax-man, I did.  I would remind you I am only one person.  I am up against companies, corporations, and hundreds and hundreds of employees.  I am only human, not a machine.

Please respect my time.

This man.  This man…sigh, heavy sigh.  If you wanted me to be able to see you, communicate with you through everything, then that is not what has happened in its entirety.  That is all I will say for the moment.

Illegal handicapped parking, I am a bit unhappy about this.

I am sick to death of players and wanna-be’s.  They are not real.

If you think I can sit down and write one or two lines or a paragraph letting it satisfy a complete picture, you are mistaken.  If you think I am willing to sacrifice my experience for the sake of your time and not mine, you are mistaken.

Real will always be real.

This is true and real, so if you are not interested in reading something personal and real, stop.  You have arrived at the wrong location.

There was a man I saw – death.  Not dead man walking, not dying man, I saw death.  Hard to read I know.  I share it for a reason.  I saw the people with him, pulling my attention from him just to look, nothing more.  Difficult to describe what these people, how they were for him, other than just being there, for him.  How very important – to just be there for someone.

Anger, I also saw anger in him.  I had to think on this for some time because it did not make sense.  Then, I remembered I wrote about not being able to be with my mother or have knowledge of her death, or her heart failure.  And, why were more people not outraged that I was not able to be with a family member who was dying while others, caretakers, providers, managers, and employees knew of the situation and circumstance.

I want you to know what a very hard thing that was for that man to do.  Walk, and show me the anger and outrage for me.  A hard and tough thing to do.  Until you’ve lived in a hospital as I have – this is how I see it – then, you will not fully understand the depth of will and strength it takes to do what he did.

How amazing, people like that are in the world.

The world will have to wait.

I am not a machine.

I am only one person.

The world will simply have to wait for its History lesson.

For personal reasons I will no longer share on my blog when I see edited people.

Yes, I am angry.

I have been saying – FOR YEARS NOW – that this, this life surrounding me was unacceptable.

The Mississippi woman on Amazon using the name Kate pretended to be Cleveland at The Container Store while David Wolfe stood behind me telling me we were like peas and carrots.  I do not know why David said this.  Probably it is what he was told in his ear to say.  Like dialogue.

The problem is that I knew it was David Wolfe, therefore it created a reality.  A truth that was not real at all.  It created a reality for me because I knew it was David Wolfe and not Alfredo Cruz.

In that moment I did not know who Cleveland was in disguise.

The reason I am angry?  This morning as I returned to my “home” it was becoming clearer to me how different the walls and my surroundings were.  Sitting on my stairs taking my shoes off, it is Maurice’s favorite.  He loves to be petted as I take off my shoes.

Several things I am noticing.  I am free to play with my cats again – like I used to.

There is a picture of Mississippi Kate pouring lemonade on a shrub.  To me this looks like my Thursday peeing on the stairs looking at me, and I cannot see my Thursday anymore.

I am so heartbroken over my Thursday.

Did you know, someone placed a picture in my head sometime after my brother took them, of Thursday – like he was still alive.  True or not I am sick about it.  Because it seems to be that Mississippi Kate has been placed in control and charge of me – AGAINST MY WILL – she then is allergic to cats, so she did everything in her power to get me to get rid of them, and she is an addict, drugs and alcohol.

I am looking around my house, the alcohol looks like a delicious drink and NOT SOMETHING THAT MUST BE CONSUMED AS FAST AS POSSIBLE.

So, she was using me as a way to consume alcohol, using the glasses and helmet to live through me!

YUCK!  GROSS!!  UPSET!!!

That is a huge and big difference!

It does feel a little like freedom.

Back to my mind, or at least closer to my mind than before.

I am playing with my cats again.

I am struck at how I am playing with my cats again.

I used to play with my Thursday and Tuesday.  I would run from one end of the house to the other end of the house, run past a corner and wait for them, and they would run after me.  Run around the corner with bright eyes enjoying the play time, I would exclaim, you found-ded me!  Then, I would run and do it again.  They loved it.  It was play-time.  They said, that’s fun.  Let’s do it again.

I know I have been seen on the television playing with my cats.  I know I was seen, I was watching a movie that had cars or a car in it, playing with a string with my cats.  So, I know people are aware how much I truly loved my cats.

What a terrible thing to take away love from another person.

I am sickened and saddened to discover David Wolfe has been used in such a way that essentially allowed me to be fooled and tricked.

It takes away my picture of him.

Why would he be so willing to participate in such a thing?

How many years do I have to keep saying and writing the same thing over and over again?!

I saw that boy of a man – that has nothing to do with London or England for me – covered in black, walking backwards, and bouncing his chest!  GROSS!  YUCK!  I never want to be with or know that “Edison” phony ever again!!

How many years do I have to keep writing that over and over!!!!

I was asked, in my head, last night to read a man.  I said, in my head, I can’t see him.

This is how it works.  I am not having to think.  Do you know how you don’t have to think about blinking your eyes?  Same thing.  You can purposefully blink your eyes, yet you blink without having to think about it.  It just blurts out, or comes out, or an instinct, or an honest reaction without a filter.

Because I said I couldn’t see him, I heard in my head a disgruntlement.

So, I had to clarify.  I can’t see him because he is covered in sand.

This man was covered in sand, the closest explanation would be a sandstorm surrounding him.

Then, I got to look at him again.  So many different occupations he has had.  Time, a person’s history does not always appear in chronological order.

Yelling, yelling, loudness in my head.  LOUDNESS!!!!

I see prison work, somewhere in a prison not necessarily as a guard.  I see overseas on a base – not contractor work – on a base.  Where does or did he work, I ask myself?  In the kitchen?  KP duty?  Overseeing deliveries?  Paperwork.  I see paperwork and deliveries, and a kitchen, aluminum pots, aluminum utensils.  I see a side door, I see a high window, and then I don’t see a window.

I see disgruntlement and frustration.  Not a big deal, not every person likes dealing with different people.  And, perhaps there is barriers that were frustrating and difficult to deal with.

I see how he somewhat misses the work, the location, the people?  He still has people over there that he likes.  I smiled because he believes in the work being done on the base and the presence the military has there.

11:46 pm – True or not – the way they created the accident on my corolla was through illusion.  Using a sliding mirror or something else creating a barrier to hide oncoming traffic while making it appear as the road.  So, that I made my way into an intersection believing it was clear only to discover once my head was turned the other direction they removed the barrier illusion and when that was not enough to create an accident the driver of the oncoming traffic swerved to hit me.  Did they mean to make it such a bad accident?  Did they mean to injury me?  It’s heart breaking.

I was clear.  I was clear of car payments and I would have been more able – again – to pay off my debt and NOT go into bankruptcy again.  It’s heartbreaking.

This was the same day I applied for a job – that interview made no sense and could not have been a real job – the loss was devastating.  I was traumatized for months.  It’s heartbreaking.

True or not – was that the same woman I worked with who was a Jehovah’s Witness that I saw on my way home from work today?

True or not – I heard in my head that is incredibly hard to do, recognize or read people?

True or not – the woman who delivered my groceries today was someone my mother knew?  I saw a birthday party.  I saw the birthday party I went to in Plant City at a park downtown…is it off of Wheeler?  I saw balloons.  I don’t know her name.  I am not sure I would have known her name then.  I do not recall whose birthday it was because I only went for my mother.  I didn’t know anyone there.

True or not – aren’t they the same person?  The kisser or the good paying job.  They are the same person.

How do you limit casualties?  How do you defeat without injuries?

Create distance.

Separate the hysteria.

Hand to hand combat.  Fighting in close range need to become a thing of the past.

The emotion that once used to create hype, hysteria, emotionality of fighting must end.

Cease and desist.

That is how you win a battle without casualties.

Strategy.  Create the distance, no personal connection.  Good and reliable Intel.  This is how – there will never be peace on Earth until Christ sets foot on Earth and there is a second coming –  you create workable world order.

 

When I adopted Maurice, Lambert, and Murphy I did not have enough time in the shelter.  I thought because my life in the last few years has been nothing more than five seconds or less, make a decision and purchase.  Yet, this is not a thinking person’s idea.  A person who thinks take time over a decision.  Adopting an animal is not the same as buying gum or potato chips at a gas station.

A person who thinks takes time.

Thinking of college days.

I was never going to love him – like that.

The hype machine they have spinning in the media is taking away from my creative freedom and choice.

I can no longer read it.

Stuart.  Stuart Shapiro.  Was there not one man I’ve met since being in Florida that has not been placed by persons for reasons I will never understand?

Then, why and how come did I meet Michael Wayne Brown?!

They – a singular person or multiple persons – used David Wolfe to speak to me?  That would again, make the feelings I had for him only one-sided.  Yet again.

I was never going to love Stuart like that.  All I saw in him was me having to make all the decisions, all the planning, all the household decisions and planning, all the life planning about our future, by myself, alone.  I saw I would have eventually sooner rather than later, resented him.

Though I loved him.  Stuart made me laugh.  Stuart was not shy about touching me, or hugging me, and I did love him.

Am I the only person in the world who has had friendships?  Am I the only person in the world who believes that men and women can be friends?

I needed, I still need a provider and protector.  Probably why I am attracted to taller, stronger, bigger men.  Bigger than my body size.

Who was going to protect me if someone like Michael came back into my life with Stuart around?  Not Stuart.  He could have called the police, but that is about it.

Dangerous men had become a part of my life because of Michael.  That will never leave my life and mind, the need for protection.

Glen, I remember his full name although I will not share it.  I remember every address and phone number I’ve had my whole life.  I remember every password I created.  With few exceptions of times and years I’ve blocked out of my mind for my own healing.

It felt good to be in Glen’s arms.  He complimented me when I dressed well, on my appearance, and he had no problem displaying affection for me.  He would grab, and hold, and hug me.  He listened to me too.  Glen could have protected me, but he could not have provided for me.

Am I the only girl in the world who wants more than a casual romance?

Perhaps I should have a different brain.  One where I am not able to see people.  Perhaps then I could have had more love in my life, been loved by more men, rather than being eternally alone.

Also, I was so in longing for David then.  No other man made me feel like David did.

However, all these truths change when friends marry.

Married life changes people, there friends become different, their lives change, and past friendships are not always the same again.

Marriage changes everything.

It is a fact.

I do not understand why there is not more upset about me being made to live for these years and continued to live – in absolute isolation and aloneness.

A provider and a protector.  I will always need him to be a provider and a protector.

I am a million miles away again.

My job.

My job is so physically demanding.

Ten hours of lifting, pulling, pushing, standing, walking, standing up for ten hours, then standing once at home doing household chores.  I collapse into bed every day.  My body begging me to lie down and rest.

My hands are swollen and achy.

Joints hurt.

My body is swollen and fatigued.

So, I go to my head spa.

I am a million miles away creating beauty…trying to create beauty in my head to get away from the hype, the media frenzy, the evilness, the hatred, the ugly, and the aloneness.

I have been a million miles away for months now.

In a spa, where my skin is being buffed and polished off of all the blotchiness, skin discoloration, sun damage, and swelling.

Where I am allowed to groom myself once again without description barriers, photo barriers, advertising barriers.

Where I have my muscle control back to myself.

Where I can smell perfume and flowers again.

Where if I am not wearing make-up, it is not because I have not been allowed to clean and groom myself.

Clean, crisp clothes await me.

Clean, ironed pajamas allow me to rejoin civilization.

Where I can read any book I want without hackers destroying literature.  Where I can read.

What a novel idea to be allowed to read.

Going back to my beach.  My beach where I visualized my bikini body I have yet to reach.  Guessing the reason my body is in front of me with my back to me, I am looking at myself in the future that has yet to happen.  In a bikini with my long flowing hair down my back with no jiggly and sagging skin.

Never thought I would miss the green of Oregon so much.  The green in Florida is a different color.  Rain and weather never stopped any Oregonian from doing anything outdoors.  You simply are prepared for it.

There is so much nature to discover in Oregon.

As a family when I was single-digit young, we were driving on a road in the middle of nowhere.  Trees all around.  We stopped.  There was a pull-over place to park for a few cars.

There most remarkable, side of the road, natural beauty.  These are the kinds of things I miss about Oregon.  Huge boulders and rocks formed a natural pool of the most beautiful emerald green water.  It must have been fifty or more feet deep at the drop.  Though there was a boulder sunken in the water that was flat creating a natural “shallow end”.

Wonder why the water was green as it was absolutely clear.

I am not sure if that was natural rain water or if the water was from another source.

The most beautiful color.

Just driving along, nature can be so beautiful.