You wanna talk about Looting after Cold-Blooded Murder.
So let’s talk.
The neighborhood was Looted
Long before the windows broke
Long before the tear gas was thrown
Long before fire grenades flashed through the night
There was Looting
There has always been Looting
Since land, liberty, and life was Looted from the first people to live in this neighborhood,
The Looting has Continued
The more people I get to know, the more I love being by myself. The more I am by myself, the more questions I have. People have changed and I haven’t changed with them. I am stuck in a past that is long gone, and I find myself wondering where that leaves me.
Continue readingAt the top George Mallory wanted to leave a photograph of his wife. It hasn’t been found -yet. How far he got is unclear to this day. Clear is Mallory and Irvine had an accident. Unclear is if they were on there way up or down.
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Flowers and balloons,
no candy please, too much sugar.
Perhaps a movie
if we make it all the way through.
I will lend to you for awhile a puppy,
For you to love her while she lives
and to mourn for her when he is gone.
Maybe for 12 or 14 years, or maybe for 2 or 3
But will you, till I call her back
take care of her for me?
“Anger is like flowing water; there’s nothing wrong with it as long as you let it flow. Hate is like stagnant water; anger that you denied yourself the freedom to feel, the freedom to flow; water that you gathered in one place and left to forget. Stagnant water becomes dirty, stinky, disease-ridden, poisonous, deadly; that is your hate. On flowing water travels little paper boats; paper boats of forgiveness. Allow yourself to feel anger, allow your waters to flow, along with all the paper boats of forgiveness. Be human.”
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It’s day #7 of our self-isolation after my husband tested positive for COVID-19. “Curse words fail me,” I texted to a friend the other day, and while it’s true, we are in good spirit. We managed to put our Christmas tree up and as always, the work was shared fair and square. My husband brought the tree down, which took him about five minutes and I spent three hours stringing the lights and placing the ornaments.
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SARS-CoV-2 RNA detected! There it was, something positive this year I didn’t want to hear. My husband went Sunday in the morning to get his COVID test done -part of his pre-op for Thursday’s procedure- and three hours later an incoming message informed us of the unexpected. His test came back positive.
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So Trump has won the election, but can’t prove it because the evidence shows otherwise. Nevertheless, he filed one lawsuit after the next -because the name of the game is denial and he plays it well for decades. It keeps his fanatic fans and followers busy hoping and dreaming of a time when democracy will be dead once and for all and a new area of everlasting Republican Plutocracy will transport the wealthy 1% of our population straight into paradise.
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Today in the morning we celebrated his 1st BAB (Birthday after bypass), the first of hopefully many more to come.
Last year right about the same time I am writing this, I was hiding in the chapel of the hospital, which amused a lot of people for months. No, the sky did not fall down on me, neither was I hit by lightning. It simply was the quietest place I could find, far away from nurses and doctors I was able to listen to music during a long time of waiting.
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