The Sullen

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It just crept up on her. Like a sullen boy looking for a sullen girl. There were no words to describe it. Words were no longer easy to craft. And that, my friend, was one of the signs, she drove past, with her foot upon the accelerator.

But no, she wasn’t really wonder woman. She couldn’t just drive through all the obstacles she faced with acceleration. And that, my friend, was another sign, she again drove past. She was a little girl who thought the world was about dreams, fantasies, creativity, imagination, and boy was she wrong. She thought the world would just shed rainbows upon everyone who was deserving. But no, that’s not always the case.

Life can be difficult. Unnecessarily so. She never could see reality as clear as the others. Things can happen at any point in time that can change your perception of yourself. Nothing could have prepared her for this. No curriculum, no adopted ideology, nothing could prepare her for the obstacle she faced. And no person would want to face this. Especially unknowingly.

Perhaps, that was always the issue. She was a dreamer. And then when the dream ended, reality set in and so did the clouds. The rain seemed longer than it actually was. The days seemed longer, and the nights we riddled full of a lack of sleep that no sleep aid could fix. Her eyes would shut, but the noise never did. She thought it was normal.

Did she build this fallacy of a dream and ultimately create this depression? Or did something else? The question always plagues her but there will never be a definite answer. Realistically, the answer is both. In her eyes there are so many factors in situations, she doesn’t even want to think about the past anymore. And when she does, the most sullen of beasts grips onto her as if he will never let go, for there is too much to decipher and reflect upon.

She knows if she digs deeper, she will only discover more people just like her. And the thought, brings a cringe to her face. Just a number she thinks. Everyone of us is just a number now to them. How can you keep your sanity as a number?

How can you not be just a number, when they made you a number?

She knows the fact she even asks these questions brings her hope of escaping an ideology which has done nothing for her but help further her depressing state. A kind of institutional virus she paid to be injected with. Her own ideologies questioned, not embraced in discussion. Her papers written all over with biased red ink. If she looks over them now, it will make her even more infuriated than ever.

So much difficulty she faced, just trying to be herself in a world where acceptance is so hard to come by.

She looks outside though. The sun is still there, shining. She remembers it has always been there and always will be there probably until the day she dies, no matter what happens. She thinks, they sure as heck cannot take away the sun, so I should be okay. Some things cannot be controlled by the human hand.

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The Dimensions/Part 2

She wakes up to him tugging upon her sleeve.

“Mommy! Mommy! I have to go to school soon. Where’s my lunch?”

“I…I…” She panics…”I think I it’s in the fridge, hold on.”

Sure enough it is. She doesn’t remember ever packing it though. She doesn’t even know his name yet. She thinks, what’s my name?

So many thoughts racing, their almost uncontrollable. He’s staring at her, as if he knows something is different about her. Children always know when things are off. It is as if intuition is at its peak at those ages.

He runs out the door, barely making the bus.

Now, time for some investigation. She runs upstairs, trying to find anything with a name on it. She has to know who she is, who they are, where she is, in order to answer questions later. Nothing makes sense and she is overwhelmed with only an afternoon to figure this out it seems.

She finds something. A filing cabinet of some fancy kind. After some ravaging she was able to find birth certificates. Apparently her name is Margaret, her son is Alvin, and her husband is Edward.

Really, Alvin? She thinks. Poor kid.

She is 32 years old, Edward is 34, and Alvin is 9. None of this makes sense to her. She feels she was older, but she can’t remember how old. Everything seems to be getting more difficult to remember from her previous life. Tears roll down her face. Jack, her real son, is no longer visible in her mind. She pretends to hug the floor as if it’s him but this only results in a prolonged anxiety spell. She knows this will solve nothing. She must figure out how to get back home and not forget everyone.

She reads on, finding out more and more about the family. Looking at photographs, drawings, mailings, anything she can use to gain information. It becomes less and less painful as she continues.

The door slams.

“Hunny!” Edward says.

“Yes, dear, I am in here.” Says Margaret.

“Did you make supper?”

She panics. “I’m so sorry. I failed to get anything done today.”

“Are you okay?” Edward asks.

“Yes, I’m fine. Just maybe a little bit of a flu coming on.”

“Okay, well, I guess me and the boy will go out to dinner. I’ll bring you something back my love. Please get some rest and be yourself again. I sure do miss your cooking.”

“I will. Thank you dear.”She says.

Finally, she’s alone again. Now, time to learn some recipes. The cookbook is extensive. Covered in flour and definitely used every day. She cannot imagine a woman cooking every single day but she gives it a chance. She picks something easy for tomorrow evening and hopes for the best.

Edward awakens her. “You fell asleep with the recipe book. How adorable.”

“Well, I wanted to make sure I was prepared for tomorrow.”

She sits with him, eats her dinner quietly, letting him talk about his day at work, who he had seen in town, and what new shoes he desires. She gathers more information and finds herself becoming intrigued the more he speaks. She starts to think hey this may not be that bad after all. His handsome, chiseled face radiates authenticity. Then she starts thinking of her own family again. Guilt rolls in. He kisses her. She feels his lips tug softly on hers then pull away even more gently. It was like nothing she felt before. So innocent. Her heart becomes weak as she looks in his eyes and she starts to feel as if she belongs here.

He holds her all night. Carefully caressing her body, memorizing every inch of her skin, so he can remember it forever. She does the same, barely sleeping all night.

A Woman Defending Her Freedom

VIDEO: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wxKV0wL71DI

If someone walks up and destroys a window of a business, they get arrested, right? If someone does property damage, they are usually arrested, period. Why is it when a man walks right up to the Donald Trump star, he is somehow able to walk away and turn himself in later? I don’t think so. You destroyed property and should have been in handcuffs immediately. If it was a Hillary star, would the outcome have been different? I think so.

When an older homeless woman stood by the Trump Hollywood star, with her signs and protection, she was swamped by a bunch of people. They called her a b**ch, ripped her signs, and belittled her so much she went into a dis associative state. A heavy set man aggressively came towards her, knocked her cart over and she went onto the concrete. Her eyes closed, and I noticed her frail frame shaking in anxiety. They judged her as mentally ill rather than just possibly without a job. Rather than ask her about what happened to her they told her to take her meds. This is disgusting.  Not only did they disrespect this woman’s right to vote, but they labelled her, treating her as if they knew who she was and what she went through. They also accused her of being a drug abuser. Honestly, not all homeless people are drug users.

This woman had signs which made logical sense. She had opinions and sentences that were more more thoughtful on her signs than I have seen on the majority of signs. Yet, they still label her. Perhaps, half of her issues are economical, environmental, and socially constructed by ideologies that are irrational and judgmental towards her. Perhaps, she is standing up for what she believes is right and will help her.

Regardless, this is an inhumane way to treat a person. I understand tensions are high, but in no way should anyone endure what this woman had to endure. If I could, I’d give her a hug.

Sugar Mama Wap (Fetty Wap Cover)

I’m like “hey, what’s up, mommy–oohh”
Seen yo kind ass soon as you came out that door
I just wanna eat, but I got a sack of fat to roll
Married to the money, she introduced me to her stove
Showed me how to bake it, now she expectin’ it for sure…
She my sugar mama queen, let me load the cargo
We be countin’ up, watch how far my unemployment goes
We just set a goal, talkin’ mis-matched rides yo
Got  a 56′ chevy, prob’ needs parts though
Man, I swear I love her how she work those damn goals
I Hit the strip club, she threatens to let me go
Everybody hating, but I need her though
In love with a suga mama, I ain’t never growing up…

And I get high without my baby (baby)
I just left the mall, I’m getting fly with my baby’s money, yeah
And I can’t really  ride with my baby (baby)
I be in the kitchen cleaning up for my baby, yeah

And I get high without my baby (baby)
I just left the mall, I’m getting fly with my baby, yeah
And I can ride with my baby (baby)
I be in the kitchen cooking pies with my baby, yeah

I hit the strip without my trap queen ’cause all we know is bad
I just might snatch up a ‘shot of bacardi and wish my boo a ferrari
I might just snatch her some womans necklace, drop a couple bucks on a ring
She ain’t want it for nothin’ because I can’t buy her anything
Bitch you up in the condo, I’m without deniro can’t go
Remi boys got nothing, you count up hella buckss tho
How far can your Audi go?
Fetty Wap I’m living fifty bucks not K how I stand tho
Don’t bother checking out my pockets hol’ up

And I get high without my baby (baby)
I just left the mall, I’m getting fly with my babys monayyy, yeah
And I can’t really ride with my baby (baby)
I be in the kitchen tryingto make pies without my baby, yeah

And I get high without my baby (baby)
I just left the mall, I’m getting fly with my babys money, yeah
And I can’t really  ride with my baby (baby)
I be in the kitchen killing flies for my baby, yeah

I’m like “hey, what’s up, hello”
Seen yo sweet ass soon as you came out that door
Said I just wanna chill, Lied about  a sack for us to roll
Then I Married to your money, she  introduced me to her stove
Showed me how to boil it, now shes telling me keep it on low
She’s  my suga mama, don’t let her hit the bando
I’ll be countin’ up, watch how her money can go
We just set a goal, but I want the first lambo
Got  a 56 chevy, needs some parts tho
Man, I swear I love her how she goes to work while I’m home
I can’t Hit the strip club, or she will let my ass go
Everybody hating, I tell them she’s my suga mama though
In love with the money, I can’t let her go….

Be An Example, Not a Jerk

It’s been a while. I am not the same as I was a few months ago. As time moves on, the portal I walk through is becoming more and more my own, the inner voice telling me to hold on. It once said to let go and listen to all the outside voices telling me who I am. And maybe I was, at that point in time, the person they described. Maybe I was, but not everyone stays the same. Not everyone has the privilege to not have to adapt. Most have to deal with ever changing economical, educational, and cultural transitions with the modern age. As a result, we develop bad habits, illnesses, and an inability to cope. We all deserve a chance to better ourselves fairly. From the guy with no teeth in the trailer park to the guy with shiny braces and a shiny car already. We all should be able to go to college not to make money but rather to do what we love. There should be a field for all of us in this economy, not just the technical and health students.

People have forgotten society needs a balance. We cannot have technical products without the human resources manager, the person who orders shipments, the technical writer, and the lawyer who writes the employee handbook. Why should one get paid a substantial amount of money less than the other? All play key roles in the end result, and all cannot work without the other. America has forgotten this should not be an economy where a person is out for themselves but rather out for the greater good of humanity. The foundation of life is built around how we interact and communicate with one another.Technology poses a threat to our social skills when we concentrate upon only the job at hand and not the people around us. Both have to be developed in a way in order for society to function as a whole. Our curriculums need to be challenged. Our law enforcement majors need to take more psychology and sociology classes.  Our technical students need to take more public speaking classes so they can actually explain their ideas. Our art students need to take classes with a focus towards a specific area rather than a broad spectrum. Our children, teenagers, and students need guidance. And institutions in this country need to look at themselves, their mistakes, and ensure they are being supportive to the next generation.

The wealth is now concentrated into the one percent versus the other ninety nine. We all are trying and trying to gain a piece of what is left of the middle class but the more we all try the more it seems the playing field is leveled. I have come to the realization we all should be able to go to college for free. Yes, for free. Our incentives for education should not be money, nor the colleges should have the motive of money as well. Healthcare and education should be left in the control of the government and be a close market. No profits. That’s it. We all pay a percentage of our income and deal with it. I would rather pay for all the choices in the world and not be afraid of a mistake. Enough consequences on the youth and college students working hard to get by and more positive re-reinforcement. Everyone seems to try to find out what is wrong rather than making it right.

I have heard things will change in this country so many times. The rich will be taxed and the poor will get more, but each year I wonder sometimes. I will spend my life in a field where I help people and those who don’t will have a short and sleepless life. Be an example for those around you and never give up. I feel the next generation will challenge the last. Time reassures me what is right will become reality for our children.

Rant and Rave

I recover like no other. I hit the dirt and wander through the pines alone and weightless like a small deer ready to escape across the road and into the unknown. I don’t care to become part of the herd, but to live effortlessly alone. I don’t care for the partner in life anymore since nothing has been gained through anyone but what emotions I have been left to face. Alone. Alone. Alone. It has always been that way. Did I forget the same forest I ran through as a child is the small forest I run through today? Has my memory failed me or my lack of foreseeing this never ending cycle called life is what it is a cycle until death? Should death be feared if it means an end? Are all ends feared? No. I fear nothing but the monsters of people who inhabit this earth inflicting pain upon others for whatever they see as gain. I fear those who start war for money. I fear those who don’t release cures for diseases. I fear those who abuse just to feel better about their pathetic existence they created for themselves. I fear global warming is real and we are screwed. I fear clean water will eventually run out. I fear the planet will become so overpopulated we will have a mass extinction of the elderly. I am afraid everyday about things everyone should be afraid of. If one person counteracted one of these fears every day isn’t that better than avoiding them? What is it about society where we feel avoidance is the best remedy? Why do we run from what we should face and face what we should avoid? I am tired sick and sad everyday seeing the world as an oyster losing its shell. I tell myself though there are others out there who know what I feel. My existence is not unique, we are taught we are all unique but really are we? Isn’t it easier to realize we are the same in a lot of ways. Isn’t it easier to put aside the self righteous attitude and treat each other well? It is easier than fighting.

Backwoods Driving

Roll them down

the glass is too dirty

from all the times you pressed your face against them

the cold to hard to embrace…

but now a 50 degree day is magic

no weather can keep my windows up

and unopen to the sounds

no rain can make a frown…

cuz’ I was left behind

hiding along the blinds….

Caressing the string to open them

into the depths in of my unconscious mind

 

how did it come to this?

Through illusions

and misfortunes

broken bones and dead end corners…

then back around again

the same streets over…

same windows down

but I never pulled over…

Hit the gas…

the road is your duty…

all the times you went the wrong way…

has held you down with fury…

but don’t you worry…

there should be no fear in discovery…

for your heart was all binded up

and now has a chance for recovery…

How did it come to this?

Through sullen and puffy eyes…

How did I survive all this?

Cuz’ my heart is still alive.