Category: Uncategorized

Day 1,554

I can disinvite you as easily as I can include you.  So, guess who is out of past and future Coffee and Breakfasts?  Persons and a franchise.  Gone.

I want my flat stomach back!

I do not have to write about you or talk about you because I hear you or see you.  When you create bad, ill-feelings, and make me feel bad about myself, I do not need nor have to include you.

My face and body are NOT a canvas.

I want the man on the side of the road gone.  I am done.  Any thinking, reasonable, logical person would do the same after what has been done to my body and mind…for what a game?  To keep a finger score?  He is not real, not to me, not for me, I want him gone.  And, his partner.

I want him gone.  Forever gone.

Coffee only for me.  Have whatever you would like and want.  I have spent too many years like this only being allowed certain foods and products to…I can’t finish this sentence.  I am too upset.

A flower bouquet is what I am making for this Coffee and Breakfast.  I have a pitcher that is a light green from a time before this house, so it was simply a pretty color.  It is made of ceramic, it looks a little shabby-chic.  In this I will place plumbago from my garden and yard, some native fern, a white flower perhaps daisies, red hibiscus – not just a red flower, red hibiscus is red everywhere, the stems and leaves are a burgundy color it is a flower I could take a cutting from stick in the ground and it grows, and my favorite rose, cottage roses, pale pink they are my favorite color for cottage roses.

My laptop knows this as I did research, I found a company that took cuttings from old abandoned properties of cottage roses.  Roses that had been left to themselves and thrived.  A company in Texas.

Roses need room.  Roses will not grow well if they are crowded.  Roses need to have air around the stalks, they cannot be watered at night, a lot of different things are required to grow roses well.  Therefore, they lend themselves so well to formal gardens.

Before moving here, I used to get Grounds for your Garden from Starbucks.  Every bag they had, I would take and put around my yard.  Then, reuse the bag in some way usually as a trash bag.  It is just smart to reuse something when possible.  This is something that the teacher has taken away from me.  Creating greater waste and hurting the environment.  Let alone not allowing me the freedom of choice.

Pale pink cottage roses, old-fashioned, simple, unfettered, dainty, delicate, so pretty.

This is what I give to you, a bouquet.

Day 1,553

What I had planned for Coffee and Breakfast today will have to wait.  I was going to do something different and include all the PK’s – preacher’s kids, turn it around and you get KP’s.  My real father is a PK, a preacher’s kid.  It is a difficult job and you are only a child.

Coffee and oatmeal for me, have whatever you want.  When I am dieting, I do not dream of food.  It is placed out of my mind.  Always has.  Organizing my brain.

Roses and flowers and beer bottles will have to wait for now.

However, time constraints being real, I cannot today.  Look forward to it hopefully, soon.

It must be so nice for you to know that your program works enabling you to predict the shows and movies I will watch next.  It must be so nice for you that I am so predictable, so that you do not have to get to know me in person.

Be aware how very unhappy I am with that man on the side of the road.

Tell me, was the whole purpose for him to “play” against me, to see if he could get me to change fundamental values, views, and beliefs I have such as God and men?

Then, he is a giant loser.  I will say no more on this.

You let every and anyone have access to me?!  Whose brain is it to begin with?!  Mine.  Not yours!  Passing me around from person to person as though that would not have an impact upon me!

Try having one person stay with me for a whole shift and see how exhausted they are at the end of it.  A person does not go to a gym and workout for 10 hours?!  Your thinking is wrong!

What else am I supposed to learn or understand from the ladders being opened other than there has been a breach of security within my home.  Am I supposed to believe it was only in my head?  When upon return to my locked home I discover illegal entries into my home.

What else am I supposed to learn or understand from the events in April other than it was all staged, none of it real, and entirely faked except the damage it did to my head and wanting.  You place items in front of me that connect to each other, then a voice or something, then I think I believe I know the truth when it is possible that it was merely put in on the other side making me believe when it was nothing but a falsehood.

I do not have to prove my writing.  This is not a dissertation; my writing is not a dissertation or a thesis paper that I have to prove!  How many ways to Sunday do I and must I continue to say no or the truth?!

What else am I supposed to understand and learn from the experience.

If I was any good.  You wouldn’t do that.

I am too mad to continue this for now.

Day 1,552.

Just coffee for me.  No time today to talk or share what I had in mind.  Have whatever you want.  I did not get anything done these last three days that I wanted to get done.

No, I will not be going to the movies at this weight.

Cub – buc, buccaneer.

Man – nam, Vietnam.

What’s the question?

I am more logical than have been given credit for.  I am more logical than you understand.

My mother when I was just seventeen or so said the kind of car I should have is an MG.  I immediately said no.

Now, I wonder whose idea it was that I should have an MG hers or someone else?

I immediately said no because I was so aware of my financial position.  How was I going to pay for parts and service on a foreign car?  This was the 80’s service stations were different.

My finances said I was not an MG, I was a slightly used stock factory car still under warranty and original parts.

My personality however, is a convertible MG.  Zipping around town, I would be so cute.

Is this why the pastor at Harborside drove a convertible?  He told a story of his son playing basketball getting a bloody nose with friends, using his shirt to stop the blood.  He stopped for gas on his way home throwing the shirt with blood in the trash where someone at the station called the cops believing he had done a crime and was getting rid of evidence.

I just looked at my pastor when he told me this story.  It felt just like a story and nothing more.  It’s one of those moments where you say to yourself, how do they want me to respond to them?  In a normal conversation you don’t say that to yourself.

Do they want me to forget that I saw David Wolfe (2012 or so) in a car in front of me sitting in the middle of the back seat?

Day 1,551.

I am exhausted.  I am on my third day of non-stop writing that I must get done before I get to my paying job or I get yelled at.

What’s my job?  Because I don’t know anymore.

So far today I have been writing non-stop for eight hours, and I still have a massive list a mile long to accomplish.  I am so tired I was unable to bathe yesterday.  That’s bad.  That is a bad sign.

Since I am having trouble writing about food still this is going to be different – again.

When I had placed my mother in her nursing home I started to do things I had longed to do like go to the beach.  I went to the Ringling Museum in Sarasota.  I could spend days if not weeks with all the artwork they have there.  I took some wonderful photos while there.  I went to Fantasy of Flight, did the zip-line, and harnessed to a wire while climbing a tower stories in the air.  Things I had been wanting to do for years.

The property I had written about previously with the outdoor room built from reclaimed wood I am keeping.  Adding more details.  I have several rescued animals on this property besides my cats.  Horses, dogs, donkeys, some goats, and bird feeders throughout.

In this outdoor room I’ve made a glass wall out of wine bottles that have been enjoyed, epoxied together.  Creating beautiful colors in the sunlight, every so often taking more bottles, creating more colorful light to the wall.

I want to move on.

I want another job.

I am tired and spent.

And disgusted at the moment.

To me both sides International door, pressure washing, and spraying is exactly the same as the US side door.  It does, they both are exactly the same thing.  Why would I choose one over the other?  They are exactly the same.

I do not understand the weight gain.  It is not funny.  I do not understand why anyone is EVER allowed to enter my home when I am not at home while I am at work, or any other time.

What is my job?

I want another job.  I want to be able to move on.

Day 1,550.

This one is a little different from my usual Coffee and Breakfast’s.  This is one I made up in my head while working.  The part about God’s Throne is true.  When I visited Dominica, I looked out over the ocean thinking to myself it could be God’s Throne the area held such feeling only to turn around and see a government official – like a Governor – historic home.  Many times, before I have talked about how when I visited Dominica it still felt like the French and English had used the island and its people like a soccer ball.  Back and forth.

This story could be better, I am exhausted from all the work.  The book bar I wish I could write it the way I saw it in my head, but it takes time to flesh out details for writing.

My wish is that is does some justice in creating a memory and memories.

We were having trouble.  We were no longer talking any more.  We no longer loved each other anymore.  You went your way, and I went mine.  Love was only a four-letter word.  It was no longer felt between me and you.

How I loved you like no other.  Every man would have been jealous, mad, and wanting had he know how and to the depth that I loved you.

We hopped in the car you and me.  Taking a trip with no course.  Making our way hoping to reconnect and remember why we ever loved each other to begin with.

Up the coast, we drove.  Up the northeast coast, and just drove, and drove, and drove.  Like strangers who had never touched.  Driving.  In and out of the car.  In and out of the gas stations.  Hotels.  Moving, so we didn’t have to feel.

Filling the hours together, I would every so often tell you frivolous bits of information that you believed annoyed you when you really longed for me to tell you.  Every time I started to tell you something relief would wash over you like your whole body and being waited expectantly for me.

Then, there was that seaside town, small and quiet, full of character.  We walked around discovering the shops and businesses.  Was it me or was it you who saw it first?  The building of such distinction we walked over to it wondering what it was.

We walked into the best bar, didn’t we?  Books and books everywhere.  Two-stories high of nothing but books up to the ceiling.  Little niches and nooks for private reading with a beer or beverage of choice.  If you wanted to read a book you had to order it.  The barman would get on the railed ladder and grab the book of choice.  What ambience.  We had to walk around the whole bar before we sat down together.  Windows and light.  Filtered light.  Sofas, leather chairs, bar stools, and outdoor benches.  A bar unlike any other.

We sat together in the oversized leather chair, each with something to read and a beer.  Reading, you had your arm around me and I leaned in for the smell of you.

Going for a walk along the beach before sunset with the wind in my hair, playfully, I jumped on your back making you laugh again.  I did always like the sound of your laughter.

There was a clearing on a cliff that looked interesting.  We walked up the long winding wooden staircase to get there.  At the top there was a vista over-looking the ocean.  I said it looked like God’s Throne when we turned around and saw the Governor’s historic house.  Now wonder they built a home here.  You could see for miles and miles.

Talking away about something I turned to face you with the sun at my back.  The light shone through my hair creating a halo about me.  It was here you fell in love with me for the last time.

It was the picture you held onto the rest of your life.  Me beside that tree, the sun at my back, my hair softly blowing in the breeze, the sun shining through my hair.  You took my face in your hands kissing me as though you could never get enough of me.