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Transparent to the naive eye, bare, naked to the world...evil lurks. |
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** Image ID #860697 Unavailable ** A bitch that viciously turns on her owner must have been provoked. Betrayed by the one she loved, trusted, needed...her thoughts have become perilous and her actions follow in the full suit many refer to as insane. |
| Hmmm, my friend and I just started talking about how families hide the little secrets regardless of the effect it will have on the victim. The family members, in particular, that sit back and cover up child abuse or simply ignore it for the sake of the family name. Those people may as well be child abusers themselves. They are the very ones that put the nail in the coffin of an abused child's recovery back to at least a tid bit of sanity. Trust will never be the same, nor will this child ever view relationships or sex again, but at least she can know that somebody, somewhere, somehow, loved her enough to protect her. That's worth the phone call that can be made anonomously to an 800 number. It wont even cost a dime. Just a second of your time. If you know of some child, or even suspect them being abused, make the call. Don't be a victim like that child is. Don't listen to that diabolical voice in your mind making a pact with the devil saying, 'Ssssh, don't tell nobody.' |
| This must be my passion. I think of the day when the outcome is my way; successful author. Maybe there's no need for me to get rich from the success, but the sense of accomplishmet is more fitting of my longing. Not to say that finance doesn't play its part in this endeavor. That would be a lie to you and I. When I'm in the grocery store, I fantasize or invision my character walking down the isles, choosing grocery items and even the small chat with other shoppers. I invision my character's reaction to the old lady that slowly moozies in her way. If that character has a temper of course I refrain from acting her out. If she's mild mannered and personable, I will talk to the old lady or simply excuse 'her' and go around bidding the old lady a pleasant day. Recently, while picking up just enough items to get in the '20 Items or Less' line, a white man approached me. I'll have to admit that I was a bit startled. Not because he was white or that I'm racist. I was startled because it had never happened before. I wondered what attracted him to me. I wondered how had the nerves when so many others hadn't, to approach me with such sweet compliments. I wondered if he was deranged even. He asked for my telephone number. We exchanged numbers. Hell, I am single and can do as I please. Well, by the time I made it home, I had a character in mind that would have handled that situation quite differently. She would have only accepted his number, checked him out first, and then gave her number to him. Maybe I should take note because by the time I made it home, only about ten blocks away, he'd already called. This sorta alarmed me but then I considered his culture. Maybe he just didn't understand how not to seem so desperate or cool about this type of meeting. He called again as I was situating my grocery. We exchanged vital information like how many children, how old they are and marital status. We even discussed how we feel about having more children and marrying again since both of us were single and had been married prior. Another call came through that I needed to take so I ended the call. He asked if he could call back. I said yes. He did within 20mins. instead of the suggested hour that I needed. That irritated me. However, I talked to him. During this conversation we discussed our jobs and a few other life long accomplishments. I'm sure that the image I delivered was pristine, not that I am completely a prude or anywhere near one. I just didn't see it fitting to discuss sex a this infantile stage in our 'relationship.' I had to go again. He called back the next day this time. Oh my, what he said really changed my view of him. He basically said that he was not looking for a relationship but for someone to become an intimate part of his life. Now, like I said, I'm not a prude. I am fairly low on cash and have heard that white men have excellent oral communication. Why not? That's the million dollar question. Well, he was looking for a free intimate partner. LOL. Get the fuck out of here. I took this as an opportunity for my character to take over since there was no future in this anyhow. I am looking forward to his next call. Oh, this is going to be so much fun. I'll write this story and maybe even use parts of it for an actual character one day. I truly do live writefully so. j |
| Dang! What a title. That's what I'm feeling right now though. I'd like to start writing on at least one of my short stories but my mind is just racing too much here. My latest endeavor as a Project Manager is weighing heavily on my emotions already. I've just realized that not only will my last of two children be completely out of the nest, but I will also be away from close friends and most of all, family. Wow, now that's change. It shouldn't really matter to me since I've grown into somewhat of a loner, right? I thought about this concept a bit and realized that this wont be as easy as just simply walking away to start a new life. Even though I'm somewhat a loner, I do have the option of letting a friend/family member come over, or inviting someone, a friend or whomever. Once I'm a thousand miles, I wont have that security of knowing they're just minutes away. But, if I don't go and pursue this dream of making a better life, change of career, or even the beginning of my own profitting business, I wont be happy and will continue to isolate myself if I stay here. This is what I mean by mentally constipated, btw. Another 'issue' is that I will forever let Twelve come when he feels it's my turn. I know that behavior is dangerous but he is the only man that I want, despite. Oh well, enough about his wicked ways. I must move forward.... Do you have any idea how it feels to be in this mess? I really can't make a decision here, although it's all laid out for me, granted the approval of the financing for the project. My goodness, this is my chance to shine bright, pay for my children's college tuitions or at least support them until they finish. The fact that both of them are in college pursuing is such a blessing. Pray for me here. |
| Last night, well technically morning since it was about 1:30, was hard. Lots of issues raced through my mind. Initailly Twelve did but was soon taken over by thoughts of bills and more pressing issues. Namely, my daughter's graduation. I wish that I'd had the financial stabilities to rid myself of these thoughts and just go to sleep. I must have drifted off cause it was 3:30. Yippee for me. I got an hour and a half of sleep. Well, that was it too. I watched 4, then 5 and 6. Finally I just got up and took my daughter to school. My car has issues so I needed to use hers. Couldn't use hers cause I was much too sleepy to drive anywhere. Almost a wasted day until I made that one phone call to my landlord about his pimpish tenants shooting at his whore last night. My landlord agreed that that was some bullshit and that he'd talk to him. Then he went on to say that he was about to call me but decided that I was probably sleep that early. I guess things happen for a reason? If the pimp hadn't shot at his whore, I wouldn't have been the wiser of this great deal that's being presented to me now. Well, hopefully it is. Sometimes this cat can be sheisty. He is filthy rich! He was just down in Atlanta and saw an opportunity to purchase some property. He came back and got his paperwork together, then went back and purchased a 60 unit apartment building, on top of all of the other 100plus he has. Wow. Well, he thought of me when he realized that he wanted to build a hotel around a new development. God must have heard my cries last night. Thank you, God. |
| I tried to stop smoking cigarettes today. Well, let me clarify this a bit. I've tried to prepare myself to stop, starting today. I cheated a bit. Hell, I cheat on men, why not myself too. Haha. That was wrong. I swear that I wouldn't cheat on Twelve. What for? I'm willing to bet my last pair of undies that nobody could match what he puts in them. Anyhow, back to my topic, I actually tried to stop smoking. I lasted about three good minutes after taking the stress relieving vitamin, the repair pill and chewing the gum. Soon after that, a storm came. My normally quiet house turned into party land. My son, his girl and his two daughters came. Then my sister and her son. Then, to top that off, my cousin and her boyfriend. I was really trying but all of that damned noise and extra extra going on while I tried to relax while the urge pass just wasn't getting it. I decided that I'd try a while later, but this same night. That's when I asked my son's girl to leave me some of her cigarettes while she and my son went out to dinner, leaving behind my precious grandaughters. Yippy! Well, only if I wasn't trying to quit smoking at that precise moment, Yippee. She left me a few. I chit-chatted with my company over a few drinks. We laughed and talked and all of my cigarettes were gone. Ok, fine right. I started to talking to my girlfriend on the phone after the house was empty. We can always find something to discuss, good, bad, happy and/or sad. We just talk. She was preparing to go and see her ex and get her cooch chewed on a bit. How nice. I was kinda jealous since my own ex/current didn't come tonight and give me what he know I want and need and OH MY GOODNESS! Bring it to me baby. Whew, let me calm down. Anyhow, now what was I saying? Oh, yeah. My girlfriend was on her way out after we finished talking. That's when I realized that I wasn't going to make it through the rest of the night without cigarettes. Thank you Philip Marshall or Brown & Williamson for your deceptive tactics of hooking people on your deadly product, might I add. Thank you very furcking much. Well, I put my coat on and grabbed the keys then headed out of the door. I would have normally said 'bye' to my daughter but she was in the shower and the store is just about a block away anyhow. When I stepped out of the door, I could here quarrelling but thought nothing of it. That's what people do sometimes. Hell, it's been me a few times shouting to the top of my voice, in my younger days when I was passionate about someone or something enough to give a shout, let alone a furck. The voices were fairly close so naturally my head turned towards the noise. I wanted to ignore it immediately when I saw who it was. It was the pimp down the street parked long side the street yelling at a woman that looked like she was a coochie seller. I never cared less about those folk, especially after my landlord gave them props. He'd said over and again, "They don't give me problems. They pay their rent on time and sometimes in advance." Well, I really couldn't or didn't want to argue that since it's his business. It was up to me to move on to a better location. I recalled thinking that my landlord was just stupid and ghetto to think that it was all and only about him. What would make him think a community of working class people would want to see whores parading down the street showing nasty asses? Whatever. I'm moving soon anyhow. Well, tonight is a very good reason. That pimp that was yelling at his blonde whore decided that he didn't like what she said or how she said what she said and begun shooting at her. I'm not sure if she or he saw me standing there, scared out of my furcking mind or not. Maybe they're so ghetto that they could care less about a witness. Maybe he just felt that he could shoot me too, if needed. Who knose? I proceded to enter my daughter's car, nervously, at this point. I turned the opposite way from the commotion too. I made the block and headed for the gas station for those, now, much needed cigarettes. As I passed, the hooker had made it to the main street, that was only about fifty feet away from where she'd just gotten shot at. She tried to wave me down. I wonder if she knew that it was me or was she just trying to wave any damned body down? Did that shit even shake her or is she accustomed to that sorta drama? MY GOODNESS! |
| My goodness! Have you heard about the church shooting here in Wisconsin? Deep. Only God knows what was going on in Terry Ratzman, the shooter's mind. He just shoot and killed eight people, including himslf. It's strange that it happened in a church and in the elite affluent suburban city of Brookfield. My current ex-lover said that the last time a murder happened there was two years ago. That's good. The other strange thing is that it was only two days after the man that killed the judge's family killed himself. We've been making the headlines nationwide as of late. We're still recovering from Jeffery Dalmer, somewhat. Many new people that I encounter still bring that nutcasing up when I say where I'm from. Nothing really tops his story though. Even if the most recent murderer killed the entire congregation, that still wouldn't have topped Jeffery's canabolistic story. I wonder about him still myself. He committed those acts just minutes away from where I live. When ever I have to turn down that void of houses and apartments street, I slow down to take a look at where the building he dwelled in used to be. I wonder if his mother still grieves him or grieves what he did. Now that's messing up the family name! I wonder if the Ratzman are thinking about their family name. Wow! |
| Last night I slept well. My ex-lover screwed the heavenly hell out of me but I woke up with a sad heart though. The ex-man that I 'think' I love was not there. Hmm. Confused? Me too. I thought it over and realized that it is indeed lust. However, the one I so lust for is certainly mentally challenged. He was raised in total dismay. He's accustomed to a party type of environment and find me and this calm organized household boring. No arguments, little chaos, no extra human bodies piled up all day from late night drinking...no drama w/mamma, nobody fucking somebody else's guy or girl or both. No orgies. Did I mention all the drugs? Yeah, his mom, aunts, uncles and friends use drugs. Not just weed. The kind that makes you sell body parts, lick stupid stuff, steal and possibly even kill for. Yeah, he's pretty screwed. I tried to understand his position and love him anyway. Although he doen't do this drug (I don't think) he certainly has drug addict baby ways. It is true that we learn behavior. Too bad for both of us. He's gonna miss out on a good woman that loves and cares about him and I'll miss out on a potentially good man with a huge 8==========) Hell, I can't even type nor say the word without thinking of him and twitching out of control. LOL. That's bad. I'm his fiend. Dang, this is beginning to sound boring to me. All we do around here is go to school and work. When we come home, either we chit-chat about our day, look at the news, maybe a program, and a little music occassionally. Hmm. Maybe my dismayed lover is right. We need a bit more action around here. But, to me, if I want some action, especially like that, I can go and visit someone else. One problem, I don't even know anyone that has that kinda chaos in their lives. Hell, I guess me and my friends and family are too boring. He sure aint boring when he's in my bedroom though. Good Lord! I want to marry him just based on that. Will I ever be cured of this lust running thru my veins for that man? It's been at least 7 years now and my urges are still strong for him, maybe even stronger since he's older with more skills now. Damm. I'm doomed. Guess I'll just go to sleep and dream those aquatic dreams speaking of him normally evokes just at the mention of his name, let alone actually discussing him. The silly part of it is, I can't wait to have one of those dreams. That beats not having him at all, I guess. So, Good NIGHT! |
| Hello, my dearest avid readers. Today I'm rather tired but felt that I needed to get a few things off my chest, as usual. I've had so many story or scripts rush thru my mind lately that I'm actually overwhelmed. My fingers can't key that fast for one and my mind wont stay on either or. That's a problem with creative fiction writing. Ideas bounce in and out of your head at most inopportune moments. The rich writers certainly have an advantage. They can just stay home and write w/o worrying about the bacon cause it's already there. Must be nice. Maybe one day soon for me too. Till then, I've got to come up with that schedule where I can let my mind roam freely onto paper/screen so that this world can know my talent. Till then, again, I need help. Do you have any suggestions on how I can do this? |
| I'm just sitting here at my computer, surfing and searching for that something that will spark an interest, revive me and make me feel alive and loved. I guess I'm back to that old way; looking for love in all the wrong places. I just read my last post. That was sorta entertaining. Since then, the boyfriend, 'Taboo,' that I mentioned has been uprooted. That situation is just strange. It was strange to began with anyway. Go figure how it should end, silly woman. He wanted me to 'pawn' my ride in exchange for something that could make 'us' greater profits. Ghetto Economics 101. Hmmm. I must admit that Taboo was pretty smooth because I almost went for that dumb shit, as old as I am too. Made me think about my beloved grandmother as she refered to stupid people or the stupid things they'd do, "Seems like the older you get, the dumber you get." It's just amazing how those old timer phrases popup in your mind right on time for such occassions of stupidity. Fortunately, Taboo had made a financial mistake the week prior that warranted a letter from my bank explaining that I had insufficient funds. He'd told me that he would give me money but later, after I'd written the electronic check, that he wasn't giving me shit. He didn't call or come over to explain either. He just showed back up with apologies and expectations. He ran some pretty smooth lines too. He told me that he was wrong and that it was just that he'd never had a woman worth giving or helping. When he gave it to me finally, I was not completely satisfied, but sufficed by his elucidation. That must have been my vain ego getting in the way of my good senses. Immediately, he began plotting the mission to sell my truck to get money and use the money to flip it. Hmmm. I'm not too street wise so the formula he presented sounded reasonable and I was in desperate need of extra moola. Well, as I searched for the title, the mail lady delivered the evidence that I shouldn't trust him. The twenty-five dollar charge for NOT having the correct amount of money when I wrote a check. The money he'd promised me but instead, disappeared. I must thank God for His signal. Now, here I sit, lonely. I would have eventually been lonely with him too. I would have become the wiser of his games but would have been stuck acting nice since he would have had the profits of my truck in his possession, not mine. Things happen for a reason, or so they say. |
| Here it is, Friday night, again. I sit here, alone, not waiting by the phone for any particular call but surely, peculiar ones come through. Amazingly, it's still on since my check bounced from the empty promise my 'boyfriend' gave me that he'd help. Silly me. I should've known not to trust a man. Been there and have done that several times too many. Hell, this trust thing for men started even before I could spell trust. Not that I want to harpe on the past, but the memories of it sure do frequent enough that I can say that the past is my present. Sometimes I just want to scream and shout and run wild somewhere, somehow, to let some of these frustrations out. It wont work though. I have done it before. I ended up just looking like an idiot, fortunately, to myself only. Tonight I'm sad because none of the men that have called me are what I want, need or can even pretend to want and need. All of them want a piece of me. None of them are man enough to handle all of me. My silly boyfriend thinks that he is supposed to lay with me and not pay with me. I'll be damned if that happens. I'm a grown ass woman. I wonder if I'm approaching this wrong or is it just that Mr. Right hasn't come along yet? Time seems to be running out. I am running out. The ambition and will and power I used to have has been drained. I have raised my children and they're fine college and college bound children. At least I have something to brag about. I guess my knees haven't hit the floor in prayer enough to finish getting the proper instructions on what it takes to feel whole, safe and loved. I think I'll go and do that now. |
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