This person has some amazing and actually very valid points. It would be cool if more of us understood such things.
For years, I’ve noticed something about America – it’s no longer a democracy. Instead, it has become a volumeocracy.
What is a volumeocracy? Government by the loudest. But what does that mean? What are you, a moron? What’s with all the questions?
No, seriously, it means that whoever screams the loudest, or in non-audio situations, whoever gets the most coverage, ends up getting their way most often. Consider talk shows and pundit shows. All networks are guilty, but I’m pointing at Fox News. Someone like Bill O’Reilly will literally yell over the top of whoever he is interviewing. It’s almost as if he thinks he can scream at reality and get it to change.
And to a certain extent, he can. People can. Why? Partly because people in general are kind of stupid and lazy. They read a headline and fall right for it, and never go find things…
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October of last year I went on a bit of a rampage and having a catch phrase that went like this:
Fuck it, I’m Fifty.
Seems after having some years of shit residue, that was probably not the door I should have chosen to walk through.
A culmination of many I shouldn’t have made that particular choice in.
Regrets are few, more.
Whats done is done.
I had to learn to shut some doors and perhaps there are some memories better left suited in an armoire inside.
Turning the other cheek has always been my style so others wouldn’t see my trembling smile.
I wished to change that and came on much to strong. When my soul knew what to do all along.
Just forgot to listen.
Although luckily, blessedly, as it has just been revealed to me, another door opened. This one putting some things in perspective.
My 3 year old gbaby girl and I were hangin out and speaking of Lola. Her daddy, my sons companion for close to 10 years. A red pit bull with the most soulful eyes.
My little angel looked across the backyard and spoke of a lovely white gazebo. You could still see the white shining against the dark interior at this time of dusk. She told me, “Lola is in heaven, in the dark locked tower.”
This was some days ago when she regaled me wirh more words of a bad guy over to the left which we fended off together.
But just this very day it dawned on me that of course it would seem to a child that heaven is indeed, a dark place. After all, once you go through heavens gate, we usually think we will never get to see our beloveds again.
This is not true.
The lights shine more brilliantly, just hovering around us.
You’ll catch glimpes of this precious and beautiful thing if you faithfully trust in God.
I know that much for fact.
I am here to still hear that door opening.
And perhaps it’s the moment for a new mantra, like thank
She was a diamond, rough, oh yes, but still so beautiful, inside and out. She just needed the powerful help of souls related to her desires and needs in life.
She still has a lot to learn, forever we learn, she has heard somewhere. Every day, every minute she exists, her main goal is to expand her very own unchartered territory. The MIND. The most intense piece of machinery ever invented. The only thing that each of us have complete control over!
“Wonderful!” she says to herself.
If hers is going a little to fast for some that’s just fine.
She has decided today to go for every dream and fantasy.
For her, this is it.
No more mind disruptions. Disharmony is or has flowed to freely in her past life.
As of this very second she has freed herself of loves lost.
The love that only causes pain, which she knows is wrong.
You see, she had to pretend every little thing was okay but alas this was not so. To her every little thing was screwed up.
Since her birth, so obviously the wrong place and time. No, she takes that back. Everything has a reason my friend. She tries to remember those words especially.
There have been so many difficult, pleasurable, opposite, positives and negatives go on her life. She uses these though.
Do you see what she sees? Take a look now:
She saw the man, old and walking with the shuffled gait of his physical age. He certainly got his way around. She watched his attempt up the dirty, broken up, street curb.
She was in her car. The light turned green just at the moment that the guy in gray stuck his black hand out to hitch a ride.
She has not, for reasons of pure selfishness ( or is it self-love?) picked up a hitchhiker for a whole lotta years. She was 16 or so the last time.
Yet, she was compelled to stop. She has no fear at this moment, she can feel his energy from across the way. So, stop she does, stopped to pluck up the poor soul and transplant him to another space in his universe.
She noticed right off, the first glance at his beaten face caused a video to switch on. She felt his sorrows, his joys.
Justin was the name on the key chain, secured on the zipper of his worn wind breaker. She wonders if he is warm enough. Warm, body and soul. She hopes he will stay warm forever.
Together, they drive up the road. Listening to some fantastic rhythm and blues tunes. Music is a big part of everyone’s life. She knows this as he sings to her a little melody. The words sounding so sweet and charming.
She has tears in her eyes. He to she “Let me come with you, I will follow your star.” She cries again. He speaks her feeling so well.
He will always stay near. She tells him this. He and she are very smiley when she drops him off in his new space.
Can she remember the words he sang to her? Someday, some minute they will come back. Then again, she can breathe easier, knowing she made another smile.
One day soon, she will open her mouth and the words, His words, will come rolling right off her tongue!! Then she can remember some sweet, sweet smiles from the man who called himself Justin.
I stood outside, just now.
Winds whipping about,
crisp and cool.
Dragging my thoughts
To create a different brew.
The love I gave was as honest
as I could give.
Touches of pure love
don’t happen much.
I honestly loved you,
I can say.
Blessed is how I feel this day.
the depth of what
had no choice but to
reach out to another.
Lover, brother, sister, mother,
I longed for these “things”.
Today, I am these “things”.
I lol’d, a few times. Hhmmm, the medicine cabinet haz me slightly concerned for the owner of the detachable penile system, oopsie, I meant penis.
A long time ago, when I was in college the first time, this band was in constant rotation. In fact, some of their songs were in heavy rotation when I was a DJ at my college radio station. That’s right. Me.
King Missile – funky grooves, hard rock, and some guy saying the strangest and funniest shit over the whole thing. Their first big “hit” was Jesus Was Way Cool, and it makes a really good intro to their stuff.
They had another one that we listened to constantly, Gay/Not Gay. Hi. Lar. I. Ous. Also NSFW for those of you who work at day care centers or the White House.
This is the one that everyone knows, if they know a song by King Missile. Detachable Penis! You remember it.
And finally, at least for this post of hey here’s King Missile, here’s the…
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OPEN. TO ANY.TO ALL. MOSTLY.
First of all, about my man/boys; He/We/SHE, handles things internally, always has and always will. But he and I have our moments of sweet emotions, whether they are good, bad or ugly. He is trying to become a man under some very difficult clouds but it seems to me he is doing one heck of a job.
Jordan was an extremely special soul, no doubt about it. He touched so many lives in an uplifting, positive way. This is a blessing for me to know. Remembering the joys of his silliness, his protective nature over his younger bros, his compassion, his talent, his loving heart, makes things brighter for me, For us.
I also have every little treasure he gave to me. Which was a lot! From a little rock to a precious ring, a make up bag, a lip gloss…all kinds of things. These can bring me smiles along with the tears.
You know what? He is the only son of mine that I ever danced with at a wedding! He requested a song from the band, came and asked me to dance. One of my proudest moments, dancing to “My Girl” with my amazing child. I think he was 12 or so. Words cannot describe how he made me feel that day.
I believe our Jordan came to the earth for a reason. Of course, he should still be here, Damn, how I wish he was still here. We must think upon the loveliness that he brought to so many. And strive to be more like him.
Believe me, the pain I feel, in the depth of my everything, will always be a part of me now. It’s only the joys of his life that can lift me up and out of my despair. So I hold onto to those, as tightly as I can.