Read…it will change you..Hatreds Whore 1, 2 and 3~

Posted on by

~Hatreds Whore~

The subtle trapping of the flesh
Does eat the soul alive…
The folly of words that spin the web
Leaving strife and lies.
The subtle desensitizing of the mind
Eating way at the cells misfiring
Does the spirit still dwell even against its contrary morals?
Against the angst and frailty of justice?
And doth contempt churn within,
As disconcerting as before the subtle lies of hatreds whore?

~Hatreds Whore Part~2~

You crazy fool you think you have yet again advanced your position in this life?
Coddled entitlement chokes you and leads you ignorantly through the trenches you walk daily… Believing your own demented truths!
And does your existence prove to be so profitable?
Does your opinion truly count?
Or does thy soul eat away
The core of your spirit that
Dances idly alone through clouded dreams pass the Laws of men  smothered by society’s brew eats the meat and flesh of your bones, your life and lies doth slowly chew, and spew…… You out… Spit forth
Leftovers are all  you are fool, and to think you  never knew !
And does thy soul magnify and convey the torment ?
Or do you smile, all the while eating lies up like a child?

~Epilogue to Hatreds Whore~

The Will of youth is fading
Hinged between realm’s of grey, black, white…..wrong, right smeared dripping, bleeding into each other~
Not yet divided by age ……definitely, to young to be old, to old to be young.
Seemingly timeless, don’t we wish to believe~

Thy will was strong, Ah Thy youth vigorous! Consuming, Passionate……..Yet time upon earth has broken the will of your youth, tainted, choked the spirit of your present condition once shared Devine connection….. Suffocating in a conformist fashion…Pre-made a template duplicated…. Scorned…even Hated~

Strange strengths unknown alive yet Lacking discipline~Ominous thoughts scatter about
Eating around the skirted Subjects best left secret, leaving no clue~

Unmastered skill yielding strength
imparting ability to carry forth much more intense tasks yet to be finished with flawless execution, instead drained by surrounding energies pertaining to tasks, trying times, ever smudging smearing lines~

Visions inspired by God… That great cosmic master have wiped the slate of prophecy clean~
Over exposure to environment wiped the mind void …..trying to distinguish which voice……… which vision was God, or Demons now lurking in corners, and shadows awaiting moments of weakness to torment thoughts, your soul.
Mute Divinity the Holy Spirit once directing every step, every action of times long lost…… Lost long before this present condition, this meager existence.

Doth this evil that exist supersede the once enveloping presence man thought God to be?
Those philosophical longings… Greater questions lingering, longing for answers……
Has exposure edified the presence of human thought upon God, as deceitful, longing to have control?

Does thought of a Godless world Condemn us swiftly without Regarded thought?
Without belief in tact?
Skeptics … Dare we be?
Ah we must! Indeed.

It’s down to science to fact…..Facts often proven failures later due to fallacy, policy, ignorance believing that the mysteries of the unseen, angels, demons the Supreme One are false?
Indeed subjective.
Your Experience prevails or does it Lack?

Has doubt allowed hate to negate….contradicting lies, sealing history’s fate? Squeezing the life out, draining needs of things considered holy, Devine, to seemingly cease?
Or does it thrive within you alive?

Hatred you whore, you demonic thief… Reeking havoc destruction and grief, yet easily graceful, alluring, enticing to beseech, even more so to easily reach~

Insidious belief difference divides
opposes thought……,action with deceit, malice, subtle thief….. whore, that hate, Trying to cloud human fate….
Venomous rage, collected, captured shackled in a cage
Scorned trifling rage
Hate… You whore
Ever present searching for more~
Hating today as much as yesterday maybe a little more….
Thus my name is Hatreds Whore~

Not For Reproduction~

~The Art of Being Sorry in 4 Simple Steps~

Posted on by

The art of sorry in 4 easy steps…….

For the majority of us being sorry is something we often feel when we do something wrong. We often forget is that when we truly are sorry and we apologize to the other person with whom we done wrong too we open ourselves up for hurt.

Feeling regret or remorse or sorry is an emotion that humans feel after doing something against their lack of better judgment or against their values or morals…..basically in any circumstances that they should’ve acted differently in.

Previously I stated you open yourself up for hurt when you truly are sorry, you then proceed to tell the person with whom you have wronged that hey “I’m sorry truly sorry”

What happens when you are sorry 1. You say it and 2. Mean it and 3. Leave yourself open to the persons response there are no “but’s” or “Could’s” or “Should’s” or Would’s” 4. There is but one single statement” I am sorry” that is all that should come out of your mouth. Next you should prepare yourself to receive whatever the other person Has to say in response to your contriteness silently listening without excuses.

Lately it appears or so it seems that the majority of relationships that I engage in are all one sided. This makes for a lonely existence. Unfortunately however alone it may feel I am learning that it is necessary to limit those around you who continuously make excuses or are master manipulators at trying to always turn everything into their “reasons for” never truly being sorry , only wanting to explain why they did what they did… see that is not sorry, Or at least where I come from that’s not what I was taught.

So to recap…..don’t ever say that you were sorry unless it is the only three words that you were going to say to the person you wronged,there is no excuse for whatever you’re sorry for that’s why it’s called being sorry….So there it is 4 simple steps to the Art of truly being sorry.

~Anguish~

Posted on by

Puddles form in the corner of eyes

Not like rain but like rivers that streak thy face

Tear salted river flows down thy neck

Does this show weakness?

Remorse?

Pain? Oh the pain…..

Dying with no description or experience

It knows not

How nails screech upon the chalkboard

Taking bits and pieces form thine heart

Anything that hurts slowly allows suffering

Oh the beautiful pitiful suffering

Rooms kept dark light hurts’ thine eyes

Another humans’ contact beyond the doors

Never

Sand paper scraping scars, salt being poured upon them

Far better to isolate

Words just jumble together not making sense

Like a gurgling utterance

Howling screams

Of God or Men

Careful now riding between the fence

Escaping as options

Depression, the depression labeled slow death

Likened unto art

Surgery without being anesthetized

Removing the human that was

Replacing it with an organism

Without enough depth

Leaving room only for the pollution and shit to seep from pores

Ahhh yes…. dig deeper still shall we?

Cutting the same spot over and over again

Thy limb falls to the ground

It will not grow back and cannot be replaced

As puddle and rivers tears streak down thy face

Not for reproduction~

IMG_0415.PNG

Puddles form in the corner of eyes

Not like rain but like rivers that streak the face

Tear salted river flows down the neck

Does this show weakness?

Remorse?

Pain? Oh the pain…..

Dying with no description or experience

It knows not

How nails screech upon the chalkboard

Taking bits and pieces form the heart

Anything that hurts slowly allows suffering

Oh the beautiful pitiful suffering

Rooms kept dark light hurts’ the eyes

Another humans’ contact beyond the doors

Never

Sand paper scraping scars, salt being poured upon them

Far better to isolate

Words just jumble together not making sense

Like a gurgling utterance

Howling screams

Of God or Men

Careful now riding between the fence

Escaping as options

Depression, the depression labeled slow death

Likened unto art

Surgery without being anesthetized

Removing the human that was

Replacing it with an organism

Without enough depth

Leaving room only for the pollution and shit to seep from pores

Ahhh yes…. dig deeper still shall we?

Cutting the same spot over and over again

That limb falls to the ground

It will not grow back and cannot be replaced

As puddle and rivers tears streak down the face

Not for reproduction~

IMG_0415.PNG

Puddles form in the corner of eyes

Not like rain but like rivers that streak the face

Tear salted river flows down the neck

Does this show weakness?

Remorse?

Pain? Oh the pain…..

Dying with no description or experience

It knows not

How nails screech upon the chalkboard

Taking bits and pieces form the heart

Anything that hurts slowly allows suffering

Oh the beautiful pitiful suffering

Rooms kept dark light hurts’ the eyes

Another humans’ contact beyond the doors

Never

Sand paper scraping scars, salt being poured upon them

Far better to isolate

Words just jumble together not making sense

Like a gurgling utterance

Howling screams

Of God or Men

Careful now riding between the fence

Escaping as options

Depression, the depression labeled slow death

Likened unto art

Surgery without being anesthetized

Removing the human that was

Replacing it with an organism

Without enough depth

Leaving room only for the pollution and shit to seep from pores

Ahhh yes…. dig deeper still shall we?

Cutting the same spot over and over again

That limb falls to the ground

It will not grow back and cannot be replaced

As puddle and rivers tears streak down the face

Not for reproduction~

~Breaking Bad~One Hundred And One Days of Hell~Needs lots of Work on this for damn sure~

Posted on by

I have thought over and over about the events that provoked my most recent manic episode.

It began on July 28 of 2018. Let me begin by saying that often extreme Manic episodes take time to build up to a Crescendo so to speak, to hit its high….. to hit the apex of insanity. Stress always is the catalyst, I hadn’t seen my son in months although I share custody. I was being parentally alienated, I was in a stressful relationship and I had to many people around me with drama,like mental vampires that suck all your peace and solitude away from your mind.

As I write this I realize that this may be too much to write too soon after these events occurred, events that should never occurred yet unfortunately did.

But I want to be brave and I don’t want what happened to me to happen to others, that is why I write this blog is to educate and share my personal experiences in hope that someone else can learn and understand bipolar disorder and posttraumatic stress disorder better. Read the links below this Is where 2 inmates died in less than a year in this jail because they don’t care and do what they want when they want. Why? They don’t listen nor care , See that’s another thing they won’t give you your meds either. I take benzodiazepines, you are not to stop abruptly or you could go into seizure and die. I know this happened to me once while baker acted I almost died because they wouldn’t give me my usual dose of benzodiazepine. Here is the article this only shows part of the negligence at Lake County jail

https://www.google.com/amp/s/www.wftv.com/amp/news/9-investigates/lake-county-sheriffs-office-investigates-armor-correctional-following-inmates-death/760398047 and here is another story https://www.google.com/amp/s/www.orlandosentinel.com/news/lake/os-ne-lake-county-jail-inmate-suicide-20190122-story,amp.html

I lost a lot this last episode I even lost myself for a while. I should’ve been baker acted but instead I was taken to jail for 101 days of hell.

I was also tasered in the heart while seated in my vehicle by an officer who knows and is well aware of my condition…..my disability which is bipolar disorder and posttraumatic stress disorder and yet he treated me and my disability without regard. This cop has baker acted me before. The police report is full of lies all my stuff was stolen there were about 20 responders…. too many …. shit got all fucked up, and a lot of my expensive things are gone….. stolen. I even lost my car.

I can’t go into detail right now after a lot of thought, I also have attorneys they probably wouldn’t want me talk about my experience while they are investigating case numbers of complaints I was brave enough to report to a nurse who helped me.

I held onto that piece of paper with a single case number and the name of the officer who put me into a room alone with him present while I was directed to write all of the things that happened to me.

I remembering asking him after hours of writing “is that all I get is a piece of paper with just a case number no dates no nothing but a number and your name?” Seriously?” Yep.

I was called the quiet one in jail. I didn’t talk much and I never cried. Couldn’t I shut down. I had no emotion left. Most likely all the trauma. Upon release on November 5th still no emotions. Honestly I only started crying after I watched all of the show “Breaking Bad” I completely could relate to Jesse’s character at the end, he drives away, and Walter white (aka Eisenberg) is on the lab floor dying as the cops are coming. That was the last episode…..I could feel for the first time watching it as it ended Jesse did the most amazing job of hitting that steering wheel so hard crying and screaming from all he endured, I felt it in…..that moment and it all bled through and finally after 5 and half months I cried…… so hard.

One day maybe I’ll tell more. Till then you can fill in blanks or not.

Perhaps I should have called this Breaking Bad…. 101 days of hell..or

“Finally I Cried, I’m beginning to feel again. . Now maybe I can learn to write again I’m learning to live again slowly. Thanks for reading. Breaking Bad definitely…….

~Bits of Heaven~A Price So Dearly Paid~

Posted on by

Little bits of heaven scattered all about~Peppered with indifference and a tad pinch of doubt~

You’re my number 1 blu Ray always on in my head~

Things we done, should have done but never really did~

Still I search rewind and always find little bits of heaven scattered all about peppered with jealousy and a tad bit of doubt~

You’re my mobility, fluidity, lucidity and I have no motion without you.~

So I sit down on the ground gathering up my bits of heaven, separating them from the rip torn shreds of hell~

I keep so still so quiet now, yet I have a story to tell~

For now I’ll play my blu Ray of us the little bits I saved~

The little bits of heaven a price so dearly paid~
NJM~

Not for reproduction~

Updated~Two Week Notice~yeah already~—

Posted on by

Dear God up above I can still feel your love…. but I’m sorry to say I must leave go away~ you called me a light worker, I can only do so much never ever figured out what is the human touch.

You blessed me with human a beautiful baby boy. I’m entrusting you to him, he is a child and yet my sin~when I try to write my book I don’t even know where to begin my life was fast like a whirlwind…and pieces scattered about and within

It’s all like a puzzle that was left in a closet hidden away, no one notice nor knew what to say

Laying by the devils side it isn’t hard to decide, he is the God of this world I now see, and I figured out the exit for me…. for any who look and choose to see, my mission complete~

So just give two weeks notice and keep the memories they serve no purpose when I’m gone. My words will live on and on. I planted seeds along the way, somehow though was led astray. So here I am Lord here I lay so I request an early judgement day.

I would do the same for my son, I would love him no matter what he may have done.

I ask in return you bless his life free of worry grief strife…. to live to laugh to love to know I can still see him from far above.

I laid by the devils side for over half my life it caused me to much pain to much strife and as a human being I’m sick of this life… I quit. Well I’m giving my two week notice as any good employee of a universal truth I must say I did enjoy my youth….. sometimes…. it reminded me I wasn’t meant for here, I was wild free and truly fierce scared of NOTHING!!!! Not even death. I couldn’t wait to take a last breath… but I endured and at times I laughed

But often rejected due to class, stereotypes, and bullshit in general full circle around but this time my Lord I leave this playground~ two weeks notice not to long to go and when I get where I’m Going please don’t say “I told you so” see ya soon!

Probably by noon

~Chapter 4~ Rejection~ An Excerpt of Upcoming Thriller~ truly a engaging read!

Posted on by

I’m working on a thriller as most who follow me should know. I throw out pieces of chapter so you are engaged and will want to buy my book. It is based strongly on my life’s events I did not change names expect 1. Everyone else is not innocent. Also time frames may be changed. Enjoy~~

Chapter 4 Rejection~
She was completely encased in thoughts …..of her life leading up to this moment, thoughts such as the one she was reliving in her head when her cousin took away the innocence of life. Her life. Mind drifting to him; having her lay naked before him, spreading her legs… examining every inch and crevices he desired, tracing her young yet well developed curves exploring her, she desired him more….so she stayed still and let him have his way. He also undressed, the shock of seeing what differences their body’s anatomies were both scared and even aroused her ….more than just curiosity.

He moved slowly over her, his male hood yielded a large stiff appendage as he pressed against her between her legs but never fully penetrating her… maybe that was his rationalization, that it was ok. Not completely penetrating her. Yet getting her to touch him and stroke him…..exposing her to the porn he craved, setting her body in the positions of the center folds. It was all perverted and screwed up.
That’s where her sexual problems most likely stemmed from.
The need to please those who desire her. How ironic even more, that men she knew desired her as much as she desired the men who would never return what she would desire in the other men…. never returning a complete circle.

Will it be a perpetual cycle, a curse her cousin passed to her for what he did, what she allowed….. did she allow? Her age was 7 so she then she reasoned that it was completely not her allowing it to happen, although it definitely did, her need of his love and acceptance was the important thing for her at the tender age of 7.

Suddenly the phone rang jogging her thoughts back to the present moment.

“Honey have you had any luck in locating your brothers?” The levies broke and water is flooding by the minute in New Orleans” “Yes I did, I found all of them and spoke at length to one of your ex husbands.” He informed me where I Could find them, I called each and spoke to Dennis for awhile.

She felt close to Dennis. Although they never met. Perhaps it was because he was oldest She was youngest?

Or perhaps her Jungian philosophy ….that there are signs you just need to look at, archetypes, All that crap she learned earning her bachelors degree in Psychology.

Looking back the archetype would appear to be the letter D.

Her first love was her Daddy. Her first romantic love was Dirk(he is dead now) then she married Dewitt who was nothing like he presented himself to be, which caused the ultimate demise and divorce of them. Then Donnell her sons biological fuck up. That’s just a majority of the D’s she was sure she could think up more. All those D’s. Thinking to herself no more D’s please.

Then again like a strike of lightening thoughts flooded her mind. Why didn’t her older brothers ever search for her?they knew how abusive their Mother was, she tried to reach out to her only sister Jackie. With some success it went well for several years. They never visited but did talk over phone a lot. Especially when Jackie found out about her husband Mark’s infidelity. She would call everyday crying.

Mark eventually filed for divorce making the call a constant barrage, unending emotions her sister needed to get out. Noel then thought again, I’ve been there for all of my friends,her sister…. who is gonna be there for her if she falls?

If only she could see the future, her plans would have turned on another road she would be able to possibly stop the demise of what would be the most horrendous events that unfolded when she would turn 38.

When Katrina misplaced her to Leesburg Florida, where she would move across the street from an over privileged teen who’s Dad was a closet gay and also happened to be an Episcopalian pastor. That boy, now a man would crush what beauty she had….. she would never have left her home in Mississippi. She would have stayed there if only she could’ve looked into the future, oh how different events would have unfolded. No online affair with Ayman Chaer no nude snap shots tagged to 500 people, no abusive relationship with Dewitt. No treacherous teen William Lambert across the street whos’ dad Jay Lambert was a closet gay, no Florida at all…..!!
Looking back Pastor Lambert was always offering William to help me,he did so in hopes of William and I engaging in sex with hopes William wouldn’t be gay as he was. Pastor Lambert’s life was hard, living as a heterosexual with a beard/wife having children. All the things society expected when Pastor Lambert was growing up. In hinds sight he wanted William to be saved from that life that was a lie, a facade. A life in a closet. But it is 2008 so get real already! If your son wants to be gay, then embrace him and his desires, don’t changed him to live vicariously through him.
But it was to late to go back now………the story has unfolded and here she is, debris, shit, betrayal, Lies, abuse, remorse, shame, but what mostly ate at her was those who abandoned her, rejected her in the time she needed them most. It started in childhood all the way to those events…it was and is the rejection.