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

~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~

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

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…….

I will soon be writing about Delving into Hell~

I had an experience this weekend I must share with those who THINK they are mentally ILL~cause I dove into hell as a test to see how bad mental health stigma is too alive and well. And what I have to say completely will blow your mind.

PS when delving into hell you must be very strong, brave, courageous, and victorious, and strong faith in your God, and be flawless in execution. Then and only then delve in…….notice what no one else notices as you will know what no 1 knows. So keep watching it’s coming soon~ and like they used to say long long ago when TV’s would go static and then broadcast…… this is a test at 2:00 am it would broadcast ….this is a test this is only a test of the emergency broadcast system….. when was the last time you heard that on tv and we weren’t in any type of disagreements among the USA….. now on high alert present day, you never hear that anymore. Now Think~ yep there you go….exactly!

Happy Mother’s Day to my Mom Mary Louis Bourgeois~One of the greatest fortune tellers On the Bayous of Houma Louisiana~

My Mon was 78 years old right there in the photo, just saying~

Momma I called Dennis today, been 7 years since you passed away.

I was sick in my mind and was unable to help when you died.

Momma we had a very strained relationship I felt that you tried……. the best you knew how, oh how I wish you were here now.

The words I speak now are still hard to find.

After 7 years I asked Dennis, I never met face to face.

If he would render the ashes, if not where they were placed?

Momma he couldn’t you see.

He gave them to your companion who was 20 years younger , as you well knew his name is cecil. Here I got his picture today! He looks great see 

I searched Cecil down and what a surprise he did tell. By the way he is doing well.

He poured out your ashes onto your mothers grave.

It was to late for your ashes for me to save.

Momma I’m sorry I was sick in my mind, there were many around me who were very unkind. You warned me long ago but I didn’t take heed. Watch who you let in and what exactly they need. They will cling to you, your life force and will breed.

You mailed me a card voicing concern, it was mailed the day you died I finally learned.

Momma it is bittersweet to know the day you passed & went away that you mailed the card to me that very day.

Momma you already know I grieve differently than most.

I have delayed grief it takes many years to finally sink in.

Just like when Dad died ashes to wind, he died on my birthday as you already knew. He died 7 years before you.

Momma lately you haunt my dreams… I want you to know I don’t have a Stone where your ashes did go, so this is your headstone now this is your grave.

Momma you kept secrets to tell……

But I’m not sure if those secrets went to heaven or hell.

I’ll never know but I can presume you’re finally at rest you paid the price you passed the test.

I know your life was really hard it was far from the best.

How I wish things were different

How they could’ve been.

Momma receiving the card you sent on the day of your death,

It was delivered 3 days later

I opened the mail box took a deep breath.

Momma the last two years of your life we became close

I want you to know I miss you and Dad both.

You lived through Katrina I found  your sons as you asked, I never knew you had many children each one you left except me, I don’t know why,

And will never understand why it was me? Or why the others never came to see, except my sister Jackie

But time has a way to change what has past make it what’s best.

Momma I talked to Dennis to day

Twice before too, this is what he would say “Kismet” at first I didn’t know what he meant

Didn’t know how time moves,

How time is spent.

I know that will be the last time I’ll talk to him as he announced to me his Kismet is due.

Momma Dennis is now 71 years old.

He had a few stories that needed to be told.

His accent sounded so good so Cajun you see the blood so creole in you and in me.

Momma you instilled in me the Bible and quotes each day

At night on bent knee psalms 91 we would pray.

I still can recite it in its entirety today.

Momma you were known as the great fortune teller who lived on the bayou I saw what you did…….

How you always eventually knew.

People would come from cities around to see what was ahead of them to see what you found.

You used a plain deck of cards for you to see what would be.

The kings and the Queens and jokers Jumped out of the deck.

Taking inventory gave them the check read them the mail from the outer realm, touched by the unseen, you taught some to me, taught my unseen instincts only you could at first see.

Prophetic words spilled out of your mouth. You could summon the knowledge from North, West, East and south.

You never approved of any man I brought before you.

They were not good enough,

They weren’t good men.

“Not able “you’d say to give my daughter only truth long the way, to love me as needed, to protect me from harm, guess you knew that none existed so you never did tell how life could often be hell.

People clouded by lies shackled in death, confessing only in their last breath.

I’m so sorry momma I couldn’t get you in a casket into the ground.

But Jimi sang a song just for you how profound

“The wind cries Mary” all around.

https://g.co/kgs/pxdqgQ
I think of you when I hear that song, Jimi tapped into your life somehow in that unseen realm… I think it’s cool and truly old school.

How could he see the creole Mary how the wind would cry your name, how the words painted your life, your strife, your hope, the saddest thing to me was you had to learn to cope.

So Momma this is your headstone on the web of the world immortalized but your story not all told.

Momma I too now am getting old.

Your grandson is growing up to, I see so much of me in him like I see so much of you in me.

Funny how life works how it moves along somehow.

Momma I pray for your blessing as I move along on my quest

Momma inside me I know you’re at rest.
Love Nicole
Mary Louise Bourgeois

R.I.P.

7/12/1927 – 9/30/2010

In that photo she was 75… died at age 83.

~Breath Suffocate Untimely Death~great read~

I write many poetic pieces some beautiful… But I’m truly a cynical poet

I hope you can read this and gain its truth and remember that death can happen in youth. Enjoy.

~Breath Suffocate Untimely Death~

Part 1.

Suffocating upon needs that are often forgotten losing importance~

Open that window let the outside in~

The world we’ve been born into our earned sin~

Sent to reside foolish rules often broken we hide despise ….hypocrites …are we? living within, believing without seeing thoughts clouded over with doubt~

Knowing mask shields unspoken thoughts of fear rejection, desire for perfection~

Casual communication God help please, oh please can you repeat that sentence again, go on say that again, and again. It’s repetitive resound stealing time never gaining it back, stolen suffocating spit it out quickly speech just runs on, is there ever an end into this needles repetition yet again and again~

Suffocating, choking refusing to see hide between tasks between lies wearing masks, craving the spotlight that place, face in lights flashing brightly above others, laughing fake, fifteen minutes of fame forgetting the game is debilitating yet feeling the importance the sickening strain~

Feeling like winning first place in a fifth grade science fair feeling proud having others stare at your perfect work your well thought masterpiece

Still searching for that aching relief~

Sit right there suffocating, breathe just breathe, breathe that breath suck it in trying secretly all the while unsure where to begin~

Pass time with confidence those we propagate later to only negate, even family often we hate yet smile into that camera dance that dance, talk that talk, walk that walk robbing yourself, suffocate go on hold that breath the way all this is going all these dreams unfulfilled goals diminished work so unfinished and breathing it in won’t bring back the breath in the end all that’s left that elusive breath searching for air often life is completely unfair~

Crave always craving cunning tongue spews forth truth that are truly lies, the soul bleeds and cries loudly inside, keep that smile, smile really big take that picture hold that moment elegant style, ah yes elegant style that picture so perfect that fake ass smile~

That image that picture of holding our breath suffocating, breathe, don’t breathe instead we leave pieces, scattered in space knowing all the while about that untimely place it suffocates negates~

Gasp try to breathe Instead hold that breath because in this life the one thing that is certain none will escape the beautiful yet pitiful untimely death. Death, we all die can’t you see this with your mortal eye? Is there such thing as a timely death? No. Either way breathe your last breath. So suffocate hold your breath that breath sucking in and hold tight but you can never win the fight~

Part 2

Suffocating in the shadow of hate together a dance eternal as two souls mate~

Still evermore mediate, complicate, hate is exactly that which often suffocates you, me all that we see death awaits in each corner, ending breath so breathe breath, suck it in but you will not win born to die blind eyes see the heaven clatters and hell shakes, no way to determine the in or out pray unto God your soul is tried true otherwise the devil waits upon you~

A fashion and mold so uniquely you so breathe go on and breathe all the while suffocating forgetting the origin of divinity of which we were born~

Sent straight from heaven down to this earth, the Creator God that gave breath allowed our birth, still suffocate feel that nothing left suffocated by the shackles of this existence the very creation that was executed flawlessly or so thought but was it in blood that we were bought?~

A pawn in a game of chess you see, the stadium of gods watch and wait to reach for their pawn to take, and before we go to the creator that made you, me, will you breathe your last breath or suffocate~

The question remains did you live your life in love or live life in vain? Very simply one can hate scratching cursing as they suffocate. Truly can you breathe?~

Wind enticing leaves blowing the flowers slightly bending but to feel that breeze, its unseen force blowing touching the skin and caressing our hair ah yes the wind so wild and free ever reminding of the unseen breath that nature does take yet not enough do we stop for a brake to enjoy the mysterious breeze created by the forces of nature still suffocate, clearly not seen that we’re not breathing we suffocate did you receive that moment as the wind whisked by, or did you gasp choke allowing breath a foreboding goodbye? Flooded ever breaking crashing suffocating slowly stealing each breath it was bought never ours to begin, it was borrowed from God and elements unknown yet meet the supreme being who sits on the throne so breathe as you suffocate letting go, your last breath as you finalize your inevitable untimely death~

Suffocating breath~

Not For Reproduction~

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~Little Deaths~& this one….

I helped you Die those little deaths In your sorry existence

I gave you songs.

When you had no tunes left in you

I started to see the fire in your belly

And the steel running down your back

You were the most fearsome thing that ever lived

I know I breathed the life into you

I’m the one who awakened you However you started the fire

Now you must sleep
Embrace those little deaths

As a  reminder of

The memory

Of me

In you alive For Eternity~

Not for Reproduction~

~What, This Love?~

There is a sadness that runs so deep

Out my pours it begins to seep

Little pools of vomit from the little holes

It started today

Again you turned my love away

What do I do with this love

I know it is true

But where do I keep it

I have not a clue.

I stayed up late my usual routine

Arose at 11

I never rolled a lucky 7

Snake eyes is my true roll

I seem to gamble with my soul

What do I do with this love

Tuck it away

The edges slip out

Jagged torn

I pray dear God why was I born?

Maybe I’m feeling you like I often do

Maybe you’re Sad and without a clue.

What do I do with the love meant only for you

When you turn me away

Telling me to let you go

You say ~Darlin you need to let me go, I’m not good for you~

How the fuck can you know, you think you are gifted with insight from some realm

Some unseen sight

You can’t truly be sure

Our love just might….

Survive in the place i prepared just for us

But my sadness pours out of my pours like puss

Please stop all this shit

The guise the game

For once in your life make a true change

I’m trying to work on my book

And my article post

Instead I hear my heart let it go

What do I do with the pain of rejection all my life

I never said take me as your wife

Just be there in the place I made just for two

That place I prepared for me and for you.

Do you love me too?

I’m impetuous and cruel

Act play a fool

When you turn me away

I didn’t ask for much

Just that you stay.

Is it because you can’t forgive yourself from the past

How you hurt me so

I lashed out then ran fast

Why is it I love the one who hurt me most

Who haunts me daily like a ghost?

What do I do with this love?

Tell me please

My mind is rambles already diseased….

What do I do with this love

My love

What this love?