The new Freedom of Religion Restoration laws so far enacted in Indiana and Arkansas is so much in keeping with the reversal of freedom that is happening in the US. Hate and divisiveness seems to be the watchword and our legislators revel in it. The American people mainly think that religion means the so-called Christianity that has been perverted into an exclusive club that only those who fit in the cookie cutters they have approved are allowed to enter. There are multitudes of religions out there, folks. And this opens up the ability to discriminate against anyone, even the white bread Americans who think they’re going to be in charge of the world forever. Even in the US whites will shortly no longer be the majority. I remember reading a short story when I was in grade school, and forgive me please but I forget the title and author. I still have the story somewhere but it is packed at the moment thanks to a recent move. Anyway it is written in the future and earth is dying. Sometime in the past of the story all the blacks have been driven from the planet to another. Now the white world must come to that planet because they have no choice. Immediately many of the people start putting signs up,’ whites to the back of the bus’ and ‘Blacks Only’ and all the typical pre 60’s signs here in the US that discriminated, but then a sane voice says no, they should rise above and show compassion and so they welcome the white people. My question is why can’t people really be like this? People use the Bible, a book written by men and twisted by the churches for centuries to create power for themselves, to prove their hatefulness is right and good. Jesus never said for us to judge others, he said God would judge us. Jesus never said hate someone for who they love, he said love everyone. I wish these people who have no idea who God even is or what He’s about would quit using Him for their agendas. Because that’s all this law is about. A business owner is in business to serve whomever seeks his service. Freedom of religion means a person has a right to worship as they see fit. Gays do not infringe on anyone worshiping as they see fit. Gay marriage doesn’t affect anyone else’s marriage. People are brainwashed by ignorance and stupidity. I think if /when there is judgment in heaven those promoting hate will have a very lot to answer for. Much more than any gay person ever might have.
I am eating walnuts. They look like brains, so the health Nazis say, because they are good for your brain. I think I should give my brain all the help it can get.
Speaking of brains I am feeling a tad bit odd today. Half of me is manic and the other half is totally depressed. I feel like bouncing off the walls, but beating my head in them while I’m there.
I need to start working on my book cover for my new book, which is now more than half done. Can we do a little dance and yell yay?? They’re all free that I write, but let’s face it, I write them for me. They are not work, they are parts of my heart and soul and dreams. I want to share them with people I will never know. Maybe they will find in one something that touches their hearts or gives them something to dream about.
My latest dream involves an island (most probably) governed by goat herders who don’t give a damn, with frequent rain and snow and moderate (by that I mean 30’s to 60’s Fahrenheit). Damn I spelled that right. Give me a cookie! If I were young and capable or had a fellow-adventurer along, I would build a cob tiny house with a fireplace I could read in front of or fall asleep watching while I listened to the wind blowing around outside. At my age I find I truly need little. Some books to read, some quiet, I admit food to eat. I don’t care about a house anymore. As long as there’s a roof and some walls. Maybe at my age I’m letting go of things I know I won’t be taking with me. Someday the journey will just be me, alone, hopefully with God, as empty handed as I was when I came into this world. People spend so much time trying to get so much that means nothing in the end. Well, enough of this.
Listening to videos of the ocean waves. I wish I could see them someday. Run through the sand. Yeah, okay maybe wobble through the sand, lol.
What I truly need I think is a partner in crime. Someone who wants to do strange things, go weird places and doesn’t mind the fact I can’t walk much. They want to spend time because they really think I’m interesting and funny and they can rise above my undercurrent of sadness and guilt. Can see through my pessimissim enough to realize I’m really an optimist and I keep thinking things will go right in spite of the fact they never seem to. Who isn’t always disappointed or out of patience with me. Maybe someone who can make me feel alive and I can give them back the same. It doesn’t look probable. I will fade and go into the west, lol.
Well, I know there was something I needed to do, but no idea what, so I have finished my walnuts and my brain is no better, lol.
“We all feel fucked up sometimes”. Just read that on Pintrest. My only question is why do I always feel that way?
Now to the meat of this blog, like where is romance for fat, bald, crippled women? It seems no matter how old you get you still want held and loved by someone who really cares about you. I read a Dear Abby today and there was an 83 year old wanting to know why she couldn’t find a man. Granted she wanted rich, too and that seemed to be her main priority, so I think she’s doomed to failure there. Rich men in their 80’s have 20 or 30 somethings on their arms. Even so, it’s always the same. I tried a couple of dating places back when I still looked human and there wasn’t much since most men wanted the young ones and didn’t bother with women their own age. Personally I think I should follow suit. Do you suppose there’s some young hot guy out there just craving some granny aged fat old bat? Somehow I’m doubting it. If I looked like Cher maybe, but then what do they do when the make up comes off? Mentally count her money, lol. I have concluded I will spend the rest of my life alone, but hey, my fault. We all make our own misery and then try to blame everything else, even fate because our life sucks.
I’ve done something to my youtube. It will download, but won’t play and have no sound. I’m going to restart in a few and see if it will re-set itself from whatever I did. I feel like typhoid Mary when I get on a computer. I’m bound to do something to make the thing sick before I get done.
And where is my rain?? I was supposed to get rain today through Tuesday. Dammit, I want my grey skies and rain gushing out. I don’t know what’s wrong, but I can’t get depressed enough to write. I need to get back to work on my poetry books again. I’ll put up a new book sometime this summer, probably after we move, assuming we get the house or even want it. There’s some problem with it.
Fucking internet just went kaput again. It’s been doing that a lot since we got the new router. Really irritating cos I don’t know which one to pull so will be off the computer until Chris gets back. Anyway, I think that signals reading time. I have finished the Tyler books and the new book is Mrs. Jefferies and the Missing Alibi.
People equate age with wisdom, with the wealth of knowledge that comes from life lessons. Well, I’ve bumbled and fumbled my way through life for 61 years and I have to say I don’t think I’m any wiser than I was when I was a kid. The only life lessons I’ve learned haven’t made me better, they’ve made me cynical and untrusting. They’ve made me doubt there is any humanity left in the human race anymore. Our nation butchers people just to keep the military industrial complex in business. They pass legislation allowing big oil companies to murder the planet for profit. Nestle buys up precious water from African nations that already don’t have enough so preppy soccer moms can drink bottled water while Africans die. People in the so called “civilized” countries are the least civilized because they take from those who already have less with no concern for the people they harm. We look down the abyss leading into a nightmare world that our science fiction writers warned about, yet we seem hell bent on creating it anyway. Where is the intelligence in such a plan? And where is the humanity? Am I any better? No. Should I seek to be better? Yes. But I am also grateful my time on this planet is quickly coming to an end. I am sorry that my generation has decided to leave our children such a horrible life, because I see no turning from it. I fear for them and that is one thing my parents nor grandparents had to do for me. They left a good world behind.
My “newest” book is actually a collection of romantic love poems written while in the youthful throes of my first real love, back when I thought forever meant forever and everything was thrilling. Back when my heart felt so full of mixed emotions I thought I would die. Youth is such a magic time, a time when everything is bigger, stronger and somehow more real. I hope everyone will enjoy reading them and maybe share one or two with their significant other for Valentine’s Day. Just be sure to credit me :)
Why is it that every time I try to post something elsewhere unless I use FaceBook, my account can never be found and I look like an idiot? It just infuriates me. Okay wordpress was supposedly my fault cos I used the wrong name, but still. The fucking computer seems to put everything I do..and you too…in some jumbo ziplock file somewhere. Why can’t they help me out now and then and give me the right name?? All those Homeland Security and CIA spies probably sit there and have a big old funny laugh and then people wonder why I’m bitter.
Also why do people have to feel they need to be a big shot in every group they’re in. I got an e-mail today from an administrator in a group I’m in and she’s asking do you think I and my fellow administrators should get badges and should they be displayed on every post we put up. It pisses me. They’re only claim to fame is the owner picked the first few who joined to be admins. I’ve been an owner in groups, so what? I didn’t stamp a crown on each post of mine so people could stand in awe of me.
I guess I’m just in a bitchy mood (so what’s new according to my family). I’m just tired of living in a pit with a zombie. Actually he’s not even that, cos whereas he’s dead, he won’t do anything I tell him to. He won’t do what anyone tells him to but the little Nazi next door. She cracks her whip and he rises from his crypt bitching and screaming all the way, does what’s desired and then drifts back into the grave. God, I need a vacation. Somewhere in the past I think. Sitting in the graveyard, the wind blowing my hair and the leaves, writing poetry. I want to go sit in the shade with roses around, fields stretched out in front. My dreams don’t really matter a hell of a lot to anybody else and that’s my fault. I thought I’d grow old with someone. If I’d known this was it, maybe I would’ve tried harder to get out. As it is, I can’t go cos I have to take care of Chris and he makes no effort to get on his feet at all.
Well, I’ve had my bitch so back to work. It’s a damn good thing no one reads this but the government.
до свидания чиновник
My Fantasy Circle Of Five
The awesome Page Adams tagged me on the Fantasy Circle of Five. Be sure to check out her five choices in a super multi-media blog!
1) List five fantasy characters you’d like to spend time with, and give a little info on why you chose them.
2) Pass it on!
Hmm Fantasy characters. I hate trying to do stuff like this cos my brain just goes blank. I guess my first choice would be Verchiel from the Amaranthine series by Jo Naylor. Why? Well, he’s hot, immortal, a vampire, fun, does unexpected things and deep down he’s really sweet. I think he’d wear me out after a while and he’d wander on looking for greener pastures (who are we kidding, he’d be looking for other pastures even before he got bored.)
Glorfindel from Tolkien, who was totally screwed out of the movies, his parts given to that nasty Arwen. Pooh. No way she could have held off the black riders or for that matter turn the water into horses and stuff. Everyone knows Gandalf and Elrond did that. She was typical woman, languishing and longing. But that’s off the subject. Glorfindel was from Gondolin and was a great hero who killed a Balrog. He was blonde and an elf and smoking.
Snape from Harry Potter. He’s so deliciously wicked and sarcastic. I’m sure he’d get on my case in no time, but in my fantasies he thinks I’m great enough he doesn’t care I’m a dope. I totally do not buy that stupid bit about him being in love with Lily Potter. Someone somewhere along the line would’ve mentioned her friendship to Harry. After all Lupin was trying to convince Harry to give Snape a chance. What would’ve been more natural than to say “your mother liked him”? Also his death was a crock. It was a waste as was Lupien’s. I think Rowling lost her mind writing that book.
Willy Wonka, especially if he looks like Johnny Depp. He’s creepily fun and has all that candy. What more could you want? Oompa Loompas to wait on you. It’s win, win.
Robin Hood, the hottie from Sherwood Forest. To hell with Maid Marion, I’ll shove her down a well somewhere and pretend I haven’t seen her, lol. Robin can shoot an arrow in half with another arrow. He’s brave, kind and a fantastic warrior.
And a bonus, Peter Pan, every young girl’s dream. I’ve always wanted to live in Never Neverland. Pirates, Indians and lost boys, sounds like a blast to me. And Peter in my fantasy isn’t a child, I promise you.
Well, there’s the ones I could think of.
Anyone who wants, give it a try. Not expecting anyone to take the tag, but you never know.
I’ve recently realized that if I died tonight, outside of my doctor who would lose money, no one would care but family (I consider Jean family) and if I left any last words here on the internet the only one who would read them would be Jo. I don’t think I am any worse off then a lot of people. I have people I sort of talk to on FaceBook. We share news and forwards and agree how damn awful the world is becoming and why can’t someone do something about it? Mind I didn’t join Occupy when it was flourishing either. I sent lots of rah, rah stuff, but I didn’t go stand in the cold and demand my right to protest. I didn’t get arrested. I didn’t do anything but talk. Looking back on my life, that’s pretty much all I’ve ever done, write letters, sign petitions and talk. Maybe that does something somewhere, I don’t know. I just know looking back I’m not too proud of my life. I have two great kids and they fill me with pride, but it’s not like I really had a lot to do with that. I squeezed them out and gave them opportunities and they did the rest. I’m proud of what they are, but it’s their accomplishments. I write poetry a handful of people read, though I was shocked when I checked Smashwords and found I hadn’t put anything up since December of 2010. That’s all I’m proud of in my life and it’s really nothing. The last few years I feel lost. I don’t remember a lot of it and I’m confused about what I do remember. It’s like some weird dream, you wake up and keep thinking there was something important there but you can’t remember what it was. I get so scared I’ll lose it all someday and I’d rather be dead then be a shell, some waste of flesh someone has to take care of. I guess it will be what it is, but I sometimes think now is the time to start hoarding pills or something so I can take care of it when the time comes without involving other people.
Today is sort of funky. I had a total crisis this morning when I went to the bathroom. My sugars dropped down to the floor. It was so weird, like I was trying to slide into unconsciousness and I couldn’t see and I was really scared. Chris made me too glasses of sugar water (warm and yuck) and then gave me two pieces of bread which really helped and I went back to bed and then when I got up, my eyes were still weird for hours with big black blobs in them. He got some gas from Chucky so he could get to the station and then got some pop and that finally got it all sorted, but I don’t want to ever do that again. Of course that has kind of screwed my whole day or skewed or something. I am depressed and wanting the past. I hate that because of course you can’t have the past, it’s gone. It’s the kind of day that would’ve found me under a table or in a closet a few years ago. I miss small spaces sometimes. Everyone thinks I’m full of shit wanting a small house for me, but they don”t really know me. I always dreamed of having a one room flat or house. That’s what was where the in thing when I was growing up. I guess you always want what you thought was great back when you were a kid.
Tomorrow I have to call a psychologist and try to set up appointment and it’s like, why? Why the fuck can’t people ever accept what I am? So I’m depressed, so I’m moody. Who the hell wants to be Mary Poppins? The world has enough of those bitches. All I hear is how I’m wrong or not good enough and it’s why? If I want to kill me but don’t and i want to paint the world black and I don’t, what’s the problem? Maybe I feel unloved cos no one ever says I do anything right, just what I do wrong. Okay, maybe Jo has a point. Maybe I haven’t been supportive enough to her and maybe I haven’t expressed my gratitude to her enough. Yeah she has been there for me and there were times when I was not for her. I was ill then. I don’t know. I look over my life and I should’ve been a better person. I did a lot of right things for all the wrong reasons. I don’t think I’ve ever given anything unselfishly. I think I’m going to die and go to hell and I don’t know how to change that. Especially now. I don’t drive and Chris won’t take me anywhere and Churches are such a waste of time. Most of them don’t really believe in God anymore and I’m too scared to leave the house anyway. I need to do something.