Monday, April 30, 2012

Just hang me bitch!

There's probably nothing I enjoy  more than to have long inquisitive discussions with teenagers. I'm sure there are others who would disagree, but I find these chats to be incredibly interesting.

Tonight's exchange was no exception.

My friend's daughter's "best friend" has been partying lately though she's only 14 and recently turning this age. We all got out the "you better be careful" scenarios so we could "scare" her straight. She could have cared less what we came up with.

That was until we got to the heart of the matter.

My friend was saying that the world was a safer place when "we" were growing up. She then went out on a limb and said that before our childhood era there were even "better times."

I immediately protested and pointed out that these supposed better times were probably not for women or minorities. She referred directly to the period of the 1950's as an example of the hay day of safety for us all. I'm sure if she had thought it out she would not have said it, but I replied that yes for men who beat their wives this was a really good era.

To make my point clear, my friend's daughter is black, and I mentioned that if we were in the 50's, that this kid would be probably be our "maid,"and not our friend. She would also have had to endure the idea that black people were still being "hung by ropes" and mistreated in every imaginable fashion.

This kid didn't like that scenario, she bit back: "Just hang me bitch."

I told her in no uncertain terms that indeed they would probably hang her just for sassing back to a white person during certain times in our country.

We forget that black women had some tough times during history. A maid would probably be a good job for a black woman.

First, unlike others who could hide their minority status--say queers, light colored, religious minorities such as Catholics or Jews, women of color had to face a hostile world head on. And amazingly they made some progress. Against all odds of course which is what makes the story even more remarkable.

There were many people who gave themselves, their lives up so we could all enjoy our freedom. Not just the black or Indian women, who may have sacrificed more, but all of us who can call a politician a "cunt" and sleep well at night.


The concept of freedom has been on my mind since I left Europe with it's video cameras taping those who may or may not "eventually" break the law.

A blogger in London was arrested for calling a local politician a cunt and this may just be the beginning of a new "big brotherly love." 

It's paranoia and big brother is here in America too hiding out in congressional  bills that remove our privacy such as with the internet or when boarding a plane or possibly even our freedom of speech.

This young black girl would rather have been hung than to be our maid, and I don't disagree with her attitude. We as a people worked, slaved, died to get our personal freedom to the degree that it can be at this time, and to see it slip backwards might be, for some, considered a fate worse than death.

On the wheel in Hamsterdam...


Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Welcome home...I nearly wept

It was a difficult flight home from London, not because I was unhappy to leave, but because I was awake the whole time. Lucky me and the rest of British Airways that I slept the whole trip to London, however, the way back was quite different.

At some point I became aware I was floating in the clouds almost 30K feet above the planet, and then my ill temper set in...thankfully, only temporarily.

I thought of the PA I saw and asked for some benzos for the plane trip. I remembered her fearing that she would "get me started again" on drugs. Well, she may well have got me in real trouble on a 747 over the Atlantic had I not been stronger than I think I am.

My thoughts were reeling for no reason I could figure, but I had to handle the situation. There was no pill to pop or anything to calm my irritation, feeling cloistered in my seat, no where to run or hide. My OCD got a hold of me as I suddenly didn't like that we were all using the same small bathroom. One child across the aisle from me was obviously ill.

He had dark circles under his eyes, and I wondered why in the hell his parents decided to travel with him. I then decided the older man who kept using the bathroom, eying it suspiciously for ten fucking hours, had a prostrate problem--probably a dribbler.

It was all mean spirited my thoughts were, then I managed to settle the mess down.

I watched the sick boy and his family as if I were going to eat them for dinner. Staring at people isn't polite, but I did it anyway. I noted the sick boy's older brother was really hungry, scraping away at airplane food. I decided to give him my dessert. They were likely German, middle class, who were quite average. They were nice enough to simply accept my gesture and the older boy ate the lemon pudding or whatever happily. Then he went to sleep.

There were quite a few French this way around, coming to America. While in London a couple was chosen by the security to step aside and be frisked by a friendly face. I had to stop and watch as I wondered why security chose them as say, opposed to me. lol

To avoid thinking of the PA and her obvious dislike for us open, out and about, bi-polars, I focused on the people of my flight.

The older French couple sitting next to me were nothing but stoic, as they only used the bathroom once during our 10 plus hour long flight. I was holding down the aisle seat, going once an hour on the mark practically, when I would without words, offer them a path out of their seats.

Nope, they would wait.

I didn't sleep but I would dream of food, my food, the type my taste buds get happy about. I've never felt such a deep understanding of the connection of taste and location.

The Brits can keep their food, they can also keep big brother, though the specter of the oppressive government spreads across our American border.

There was a moment on the flight when we had to buckle up due to turbulence and I did not want to put my back pack or laptop up in the compartment. The steward came by and before he could look down below my feet, I made quick eye contact and stopped him from doing a visual sweep. It was easier than arguing.

I watched the clock the whole flight home. It was uncomfortable.

However, I was a proud bi-polar as I also managed my irritation which could have taken off on me causing all sorts of problems I don't even want to speculate about.

Instead of showing my initial discomfort, I switched to helpful and polite.

Oh yeah, I passed the food, gathered the trash, helped someone with his jacket, shared my dessert, directed the sick kid to pick up the things he was dropping, talked to a depressed steward and stewardess, and managed to be a real bitch when I landed and could not find my cousin.

Welcome home...

There was hardly any wait into customs, and I was told after stamping my passport, "welcome home."

It struck me that I was home, and I could feel it. My dog, cat and parrot were on the forefront of my mind, my friends, my family, and of course, those irritable taste buds which were sated later at Taco Bell. Fucking I hate Taco Bell but on that day it was awesome.

My cousin was having her own bad day, she's young, in college, working, stressed, and she could not find me as she circled the arrival area. I was there fucking cussing up a storm, sweating in my London attire.

Finally, after a few abrupt phone calls, more swearing, she hailed me to her car. "Fuck you!" I greeted her.

"Shut the fuck up," she replied.

A few rounds of "fuck you" "no fuck you"--some door slamming--finally I'm in the car.

My cousin asks, did you see the English girls watching us with their jaws dropped?

We both laughed, "welcome to America mutherfuckers!"

I guess we couldn't explain to those girls that we were angry at the situation, not each other, and we weren't trying to make anyone frightened, that these sorts of displays are simply family I guess. They will have to process that scene any which way they can.

So, I made it. I'm home.

And now the fun begins...

Wednesday, April 18, 2012

Final days...

These are my final days in London and Scooter help me, they have been intense emotionally. We had fun last night with my friend's cousin and her roommate who have recently moved to London from Spain.

I must say that I personally adore the people of Spain, with a few exceptions, I have come to love every one of them I've had the pleasure of meeting on this trip.

We enjoyed a great Indian dinner, curry chicken, and while we were eating, I asked the girls if their taste buds were calling for Spanish food. They both laughed and I could completely empathize with their expressions. They want their own goddam food. 

"Jamon" one of them declared.

They are both moving here at a time when the Spanish youth have little opportunity in their own country. But I have noticed in the press and comments made by the Brits that they don't appreciate their jobs being filled by foreigners. Big surprise.


The girls are bright and enthusiastic and they are quite willing to put themselves in the situation where they must speak better English to get along with those around them.

After a few glasses of wine, some fucking awesome food, I had a good night's sleep and have been sleeping all morning. I'm still in bed thinking I really need some Immodium as my guts have been roiling since the moment I got here five weeks ago today. lol

Tonight one last pub run is in order. I'm pretty sure I have the devil out of my system, but then, hey you never know. Anyone want to test that out?

Getting back to the states will be interesting as my spirit is sorting out a lot of issues that came up while on this trip.

We the people of this shared vision called life must make some sort of change. What kind will it be? A massive war with total destruction? Acceptance of our dual nature?  Some sort of miraculous awakening?

I guess it's up to each individual to decide what sort of life we want to lead. I'll end with a selection from the Course in Miracles which is one of so many sources available to us all:

 ...But healing is the gift of those who are prepared to learn there is no world, and can accept the lesson now. Their readiness will bring the lesson to them in some form which they can understand and recognize. Some see it suddenly on point of death, and rise to teach it. Others find it in experience that is not of this world, which shows them that the world does not exist because what they behold must be the truth, and yet it clearly contradicts the world.


....You are as God created you. There is no place where you can suffer, and no time that can bring change to your eternal state. How can a world of time and place exist, if you remain as God created you?

.... What is the lesson for today except another way of saying that to know your Self is the salvation of the world? To free the world from every kind of pain is but to change your mind about yourself. There is no world apart from your ideas because ideas leave not their source, and you maintain the world within your mind in thought. 


....I loose the world from all I thought it was,
and choose my own reality instead.

Monday, April 16, 2012

The Dutch and such...

So, you would think Amsterdam would be a haven for the likes of a bi-polar, pot smoking, bitch like me. But I got the impression we weren't exactly welcome, nor were the people there exactly up to being polite. Oh yes, they wanted our money, but that's where the relationship ended.

There is no "utopia" for hedonists in Amsterdam.

Americans don't seem to be exactly welcomed around the parts I've been to in my trip. Spain was much more forgiving than the Brits or the Dutch and such.

First things first...

When I first arrived at the Amsterdam airport, I had to go thru the security to get into the country. As I stepped up to the window to show my passport and explain my visit, I suddenly got the impression that I was not going into the "feel good" adventure I had hoped.

This was just one single attitude but it caused me to suddenly burst out saying things I don't normally say.

"I'll be respectful of your country - I won't litter or do any harm - I'll be careful to treat people right."

The fucking guy at the counter suddenly reacted, impressed, and stamped my passport.

He didn't smile, he was simply reassured that another American was not going to be pot laden and puking in the streets yelling at the locals.

This xenophobia is prevalent everywhere apparently.

And then there are extremes...

A young man is on trial in Norway for a mass murder allegedly instigated by his beliefs that "multiculturalism" more specifically Muslims need to be exterminated for the longevity of his country-- and he is alleged to have carried out murders because of those beliefs.

He was reported to believe strongly that the immigration policies of Norway were destroying the very fabric of his beloved country.

He believes he is a patriot.

His government believes he is insane as he killed 77 people.

There are some of us that realize the relativity of that number of people when we accept that each and every government in this modern world has waged war against "others" in the name of something and far more lives were taken in the name of patriotism.

What drives them to do such things...

I cannot imagine there are not more people out there who believe that it's the Muslims and the goddam Christians going at this crusade...again.

Fucking put down your bible and step ten feet back. Relax, it's all in the attitude.

We in America with our 9/11 anxiety decided to wage our war on "terror." This appears to have created an atmosphere of hostility with our friends in the middle east. Gosh, ya think?

This is a no win situation that is going on. The effects of our 9/11 knee jerk decision as American's to believe in the leadership of our government- President Bush- really started a problem which is making it's way around the world.

There is no way to win in a bout between Muslims and Christians. They will die for the cause, and likely kill anyone in their way. And in the end, the world will come to a close friends. Our mother earth cannot tolerate another war--especially if that war involves nukes or biological weapons.

It's always about imbalance...

I don't care what you hear from our media, they are strung out on junk news, and most of the large distributors of news are bought out for good. They took their share of the pie and have left us all with nothing but a bad aftertaste.

With such a real imbalance in this world, which is what this blog is really all about defining, there is little hope that there will be good times coming.

The good times must be the small moments we have right now, and in hopes that someone or some force will reckon this imbalance. We must do this on a personal level. We need to evolve into beings of greater enlightenment - greater tolerance - compassion - understanding - even humor.

If all of us were to begin to believe in philosophies and ideas that were worthy of the great beings that we are, we probably would not have to worry.

But, so far, there are too many still entranced in such ideas as suffering and war.

London calling...

It's been a learning experience here in London as I have dealt with everything from watching the police pull cars over all day asking for identity and proof of insurance--to the latest news that the Brits apparently can't call an elected official a "cunt" or any other pejorative term without facing some jail time or repercussions.

Wow, big brother is here and now, not off in some distant future.

Just driving from London to Leeds showed the use of cameras for such banal issues as parking. I'm sure to have been photographed numerous times during my stay here.

The Brits have had to swallow a big pill in their privacy issues on the internet recently were challenged by a government wanting to keep the peace by maintaining control.

My fucking computer knows I'm in London. My computer was not this smart only five years ago. Now, I have to face the fact that if I take this fucker with me, then 'someone," will know where I am.

There are those who would like that safe feeling that big brother is watching over them. It makes me sick even thinking about all of this.

Learning experience...

It's not so much been a vacation than it's been a learning experience. A time to see things the way they are outside my own backyard. I'm quite concerned.

Not that I was unable to see certain aspects of our society and government changing rapidly and heading for the cliff--no, I was simply unable to share this vision with others.

As I sat at a coffee shop my third day in Amsterdam, I could not shake the feeling that there were big problems beginning to surmount around me.

Then a gentleman who was a former Brit came in and began a discussion with my friend and I who were smoking some weed and drinking tea.

He was initially talking about the sight seeing and people watching, when I shrugged a shoulder at him disgusted with the things I "saw" in the faces of the local people of Amsterdam, he was interested.

He commented that I must be sensitive to see it that way. But he confirmed with me my thoughts which were that there was a problem. He began to give a name to it and made comparisons to Nazi Germany.

We shook hands when we left as my friend was made uncomfortable by all this "talk." I made a note that his head looked around keeping vigilant while telling me this news. His hand was wet when we shook hands indicating possible anxiety.

Shit yeah, we all need to be anxious if what I sensed has any truth to it. And not only that, I've been mentioning things that have "occurred" to me in the last few months. Actually, none of this comes as a surprise.

I'll have to rethink a lot of issues as I make passage back to America soon. I may have to look at a bigger, broader picture than simply the imbalance of this bi-polar American bitch I am.

Have a good day. Make your life and heart sing with joy so that world has a message to follow. Each one of us gives our energies to the many. Please don't forget.

The Bi-Polar American coming home soon...

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

Heading to Amsterdam...Happy birthday!

Just had the best dinner outside our home here in London--beef ribs, fries, and Sierra Nevada Porter, my favorite beer. The waitress was tipped off that it was my birthday and we ended with some shots too. Awesome!

During dinner, my friend, excitedly told me that I would be happy after she showed me my present.

WE ARE LEAVING FOR AMSTERDAM IN THE MORNING!!!!

Amazing! Yes, I do feel better. I'm such a fucking bi-polar American. Goddammit.

I cannot thank her enough for caring that I was upset today, feeling crappy about being me. She insisted I  meet them for drinks and dinner then I would like my present.

It was a weird start as my eyes were swollen from crying, but I could not allow myself to be angry as that would ruin the whole plan of getting control.

I went inside the tunnel to wait for the train and some man kept staring at me. Mostly these Londoner's hardly give you eye contact, but this guy was staring. While I stood there some woman came up with the tightest pants and ass, wow, and we, the whole crowd, crooked our necks in awe as she passed us by. Then this strange man began to walk my way.

He then approached me muttering, then said, clearly, "you're from the future."

I didn't have a response as he said looking me in the eyes, "you are from the future."  He then joined his wife, or whoever, walking away, looking back at me.

Weird.

I've felt my whole life that I was not exactly in the right time, so it was with interest that I heard this comment. 

I then headed into the financial district to meet my friend and her friends for drinks. We had a nice chat and I learned I was not so wrong about these Brits. They are far too polite and enjoy the American attitude. Funny, our discussion ended up being about anger issues. These limey bastards will not speak their mind. They are human, get angry, but instead prefer to talk behind someones' back.

We moved on to one of the few steak houses in the area, our dinner was incredible as I explained my American taste buds have felt unsatisfied for a while now. It was so good!

We clinked our glasses together acknowledging how wonderful the visit has been. They are so cute, they keep counting down to where I'm leaving then get sad. I love them so much. I wish I could stay longer, but I have things to do...if I don't freak out.

This has been a growth experience to say the least. I still miss the people of Spain they were so incredibly interesting to me. Now, Amsterdam should be intense too. The dutch and such.

I'll be back on Sunday, as I must arise at 4:30 am for the trip tomorrow. There's laundry to do and some packing, as my friend is rather fastidious about our travel. So, goodbye for now.

Back to the future....when I get to America--Sacramento here I come!

Your bi-polar American....

The unrepentant...

Thanks to all who have been in my life, but I'm going to take this blog down. It will be gone due to the fact that I just don't know what to do with me or it at this moment.

I seem to have come apart at the seams. LOL

Acceptance, remember, that is key--Too bad I can't find the door.

There's far too much pain surging through my veins, this is another type of pain, though, it's emotional. Since I've been alive I've felt completely alone and different in this world. I don't think like other people do nor do I want to. (see bi-polar bedtime stories-who does those things?)

But I'm being forced to face an incredible imbalance within myself. Not that this will come as a surprise, but I've got an anger problem. It's a huge force within me that has been set on edge about too many things to list.

This is only half my imbalance. The other half is that I love too deeply. I love and have so much compassion for the world and all its inhabitants. It fucking hurts a lot. Ouch.


Something changed and it was me...

As has been repeatedly discussed for months now I had a "break down" or "awakening" it depends on how the situation is perceived. It really doesn't matter to me how it perceived as one is corporeal while the other, quite ethereal.

The world isn't ready for what I have to give or take. I'm in between heaven and hell, it's more painful than simple pain. This is more complex. I've a role to play and now I need to just play it--quit bitching about it.

I'm really so out of time it's not funny. No self pity, that will not help me.

Thank you to those in Leeds who tried to help me. Not too many people get involved in my drama, but some very nice people actually intervened on my behalf. 

I guess I'll recount what happened.

I could not get control of my American taste buds, the food here in England as well as Spain, has been driving me crazy. My appetite cannot be sated. Actually many of my appetites have not been fulfilled.

There was a short time I thought maybe I could come down out of the clouds and land on solid ground. Then I found there was no solid ground.

One of the issues of being alive is eating, which is survival, so it's important. But I could not shake the feeling that I wanted my FUCKING AMERICAN FOOD AND SPICES.

My ire was up as I ordered the "American Pizza" at Pizza Express in Leeds. The judgment issue got upset so I thought this was terrible, and honestly any red blooded American or even Italian would have been disappointed. So, I began to get irritated.

All readers of this blog know that if I get irritated I begin to swear. So, my friends and I went to another restaurant that was supposed to have Chinese food. It did, but not for my taste buds. I went fucking bonkers. I just wanted to eat some fucking food that I liked (judgment). The restaurant employees were very accommodating, whereas, I was just an asshole.

Finally, I had wanted to finish up and the waiters needed the table. The people I were with had agreed to give up the table at 7:30. I did not. I may have even told the hostess that I would be out if I was done at that time. Just being honest.

Well, the waiters got a string of cuss words when they told me I had five minutes to finish my food. I scoffed at their time frame. Then the rest of my party left and I "occupied" the table. I was rolling up some Lo mein noodles on my fork and saying nothing at this point--just eating.

It was 7:30--showdown time.

Mr. Security guard with a huge attitude headed my way. I did something I normally don't or can't do, which is submit to physical restraint.

I didn't really even look at them, but there was a few of them. They told me I had to leave. I didn't say anything and kept eating.

Next thing, the thug had me by my arm, pushing it behind my back. He pulled me out of the chair onto my feet with my arm behind my back. I laughed and told him I have been thrown out of better places.

Then as we made our way up the corridor I made a few more remarks. Hey you don't get to manhandle me without getting some feedback.

As I realized that night, I can start a riot just about anywhere I go. I have a talent to be able to get people really pissed off.

"You know you need to see a dentist, your teeth suck."

My arm got raised higher for that remark. It was too easy. I just played on the stereotype of the British having crooked or bad teeth.

Then I hit him with the world wide fear: "And you have some bad breath."

Bam! My arm was practically over the top of my head. LOL

I could feel the pain, but it wasn't the physical pain that bothered me, it was simply that this guy was a coward. He really was a coward, as he was not a real cop- he was a "wannabe" cop.

I'm not into cowards. A cop would have had more confidence and probably would have laughed off a small, middle aged woman, and not have had to make such as scene. Not this guy.

So, in the middle of our travels to the outdoors, I spun out of his grip. I guess until you see me fight, you don't understand that I saved my own life once when "someone" was trying to break my neck by twisting my head, I quickly reacted and spun myself the opposite direction.

He was seriously pissed off now. And I was truly amused as he had to grab me again.

We were now outside in front where my friends were standing and waiting for me. I came out with a big person on my back but with a bigger smile on my face. LOL

I was so touched when my friend jumped right in the middle of this scene and told this dumb brute, "let her alone she's a mental case."

He dropped me, telling her I had hit someone. Why do these people lie and say I've done something I did not do? If I had begun hitting people the restaurant would have been cleared.

Why can't they simply admit that I got the best of them without ever throwing a punch? Just like my own anger problem, when someone lights you up you owe them a bit of thanks for showing you your own weaknesses.

My friend moved me out of the way, but I kept egging him on. It was too easy. She was shocked and I told her I was not angry-- just repaying the service with some tips for their security department regarding their orthodontic care. 

She was so sweet to intervene on my behalf.

They threatened to call the police. As I always say in situations where I get someone so riled up they can't handle me with out threatening to call government law enforcement, "fuck you, do whatever you want."

My friends pushed me down the street into a pub, where this "insecurity" guard would follow as he was so lit up he could not let it go. LOL

Another person got in between us. Boy, I must say these are some brave people to step in between me and the people I light up. Kudos for having some fucking balls!

The night was young....

What I have to explain is that I was NOT drunk at this point. But later on I would be, very much so. I'm just an asshole apparently.

Before I left for Leeds on Saturday, my friend I'm staying with in London, was preparing me for my trip, making sure I had a cell phone, a way to get back to her house in London, funny British money and so forth.

Then she looked at me concerned and told me, "Just come back. I don't care if you're in pieces, just come back."

What a fucking good friend for a bi-polar American. She is so awesome, you have no idea.Very few people on this earth accept me for who I am.

We headed to the hotel where one of our party was staying. Actually, we were in the bar ordering drinks. 

These guys must have been looking for trouble as a bunch of dumbasses arrived and actually spoke to me as I was at the bar getting some wine. LOL

Sometimes that's enough.

They were rude and arrogant--characteristic of bullies.

This time I got into it with those who think Americans are stupid. At least these guys were willing to say it and own it. So, then, I would own them.

The Brits are very much into their quiz shows and they like to learn facts, or as I call it: naming things. Wow, how impressive. These are people who can name all their monarchs, yet they allow their government to spy on their emails and videotape their every move. They have a very incestuous relationship with big brother.

I had one fact that no one I had spoken with had known, so I asked this bunch of jerk offs why the monarch was pointed to the right on all of their coins.

This bunch of brutes were standing their stumped, as it was a simple question. Let me say that we are at a point in time where no one really can know all the information there is know. There is too much, so keeping that in mind, I knew I had a chance to make them look bad and I did just that. I brought them to their mental knees.

"You have been doing this for more than 600 years, alternating from left to right with each monarch. I can't believe you guys don't know this."

There was silence at the bar.

Finally, they had to give me credit where credit was due. "Okay."

Wikipedia Mutherfuckers!

I even got a great big hug. LOL

One of my friends who had helped me with security at the restaurant, also had my back that night, as this row would not end here.

Another idiot came out while I was chatting with two of his mates at the bar. He starts making sexual remarks. Something about giving him a blow job and the size of his cock. I've heard this since kindergarten, it was so typical of an insecure male.

Now, I must say I was drunk, so I did not feel any need to hold back. This buffoon had a friend with him, and he was rather good looking. So, I started hitting on his friend in front of him. I went to a point of serious sexual harassment. LOL

There were no more sexual remarks about his cock after that. He deflated--went limp, if you will.

After that, I got into it with everyone again, but by this time I was fucking toasted drunk. Not making a whole lot of sense.

We left the bar backwards, me flipping the "American Eagle" as we recessed into the elevator. My friends were nice enough to cover me as I got really pissed off. Again they get thanks for being so cool!

It's my birthday and I'll cry if I want to...

I'm simply not sure about anything right now. I've been crying for seven hours, though I passed out long enough to have some REM sleep and dream.

My friend called and we are supposed to go to dinner to celebrate. 

I told her I wasn't sure if I could go out as my face is quite swollen from crying. She asked what was wrong.

"I'm a freak of nature. And I'll never be a normal person."

She said normal is not something to strive to be. Then she told me that maybe to just enjoy the catharsis then meet them for dinner. She has a surprise for me that may make me feel better she told me.

So, I'll wrap this post. And if I feel like getting back to it, I will.

One thing I know is that I am learning how to submit while I'm teaching others how to rebel. It's very strange. I have to get a handle on these imbalances in my nature or something is going to happen.

Fuck!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Bi-polar Bedtime Stories...

What do I find interesting?

Beginning as a young child I had serious issues about life and death. I've not talked about some of this subject matter I'm about to discuss in detail on my blog...as I don't want to get killed or detained in a mental health institute. LOL

(Oh hell, lock me up because here I go on a path to my truth. There's no stopping me now.)

When I was a few years old I would have dreams at night where I would fly to places I had never been, but was about to go and see in the near future.

My parents were always trying to convince me that I had not left the house or been anywhere during my sleep at night. However, there came a time when I told them and even proved to them I knew the layout of a home I had never been in.

It was a powerful force within me that wanted to see past the boundaries we have installed around us. Of course, I would fly at night, exhilarated to share my experience, I told my parents all about the night time activities. They argued with me that it was impossible.


So, began my life as a weirdo

Next on my young list was to master death somehow. I could not have been more than four years old when I found something dead in the road. Hell, it was mostly bones with bits of fur, but I dragged it home anyway. I cried for it's pain or imaginary suffering. I'll never forget how freaked out my parents were and how they quickly tried to wash this death off my hands. LOL

A few years later I would sit for days trying to resurrect a dead orange tabby cat on the side of the road. I figured Jesus had done it so why not do something interesting. (What would Jesus do? LOL)

Of course the cat never reanimated for me, but I did spend a few days ruminating over death while sitting with a decaying corpse.

I was being told by family and experience that death was bad - serious - and absolute. There was no way a anomaly like me could ignore the challenge of bringing the dead back to life.

The irony would be that I ended up bringing myself back to life after almost certain death. I never got far with  resurrecting dead animals but it didn't deter me from trying other unlikely things. 


You can't do that

My neighbor, who would later become my step-uncle, watched as I tried to move objects, my toys, around with my mind. I don't know how long he spied on me before he finally said, "you can't do that."

"What?"

It was a big disappointment as I had failed to resurrect anything, now I was being told I could not also move objects with my mind. I had my toys set up so that I could look intensely at them and maybe they would bend to my will and actually move for me.

"This sucks," I thought as I took the criticism too seriously.

People create reality and no one wanted me to be walking around bringing back the dead and potentially hitting them with objects unleashed with only my mind. And they also would not let me take Karate either. I'm sure for the very same reasons. LOL


Short story for today, but one that I hope will keep me thinking of...why the hell was I doing that.

Monday, April 9, 2012

Leave before you lose your mind...

There was a time I was experimenting with different potential blog/websites. This one I just returned to only ten minutes ago. The title is "Leave before you lose your mind."

I was just telling my friend here in London I had written these stories based on pictures I took at my friend's house. She happens to buy some strange items, such as statues, that she keeps around for some reason. 

One night, I was looking for a way to try to write something. There is no one way or wrong way, this was just another way to do things.

I'll be posting the link, but there is good food on the table and I must play some cards, and tonight "GAME OF THRONES!" Awesome.

Anyway, here's the link to the site. I'll make some decisions as to what to do with the material. Shortly...

http://laurahart-1.blogspot.com/

The Good - The Bad...and the Unrepentant!

Coming soon.

Back from Leeds.


-Hilda Doolittle


Thursday, April 5, 2012

Occupying London...

Torture as a confidence builder

I'm still in London enjoying my freedom from the daily grind allowing me time for introspection. You know I was thinking tonight that my rumble with the Kern Valley Healthcare District...changed me--for the better--"The better to eat them with"... lol

The people running the hospital district probably don't realize that they created me in the first place. Had I had a satisfying experience within our healthcare district along with others, I would have gone home and rested.  Never given them a second thought.

But as WE ALL NOW KNOW that's not what happened. LOL

One horribly painful adventure after another has given me some fucking confidence. I mean really, do any of you fuckers know of anyone else who they could do this to and have them get back up and smile right in their fucking faces?

No you don't. I'm an original mutherfuckers. (however, there is likely someone else out there with these same caustic qualities who may not be as nice as me--yeah, I know what you're thinking.)

You can Narcan me- make me squeal like a pig-and when I finally stop hallucinating--I fucking come back, shake your hand and take up my position as local Beefeater.  Someone has to guard the health and well being of others.

And life stepped in and hit me with it's hammer which hardly deterred me or none of my friends would be concerned. I think we all know where I'm going with this confidence (see post title).  However, it will be done my way.

I love the people who have come together to occupy, but I've been thinking on this for a long time, and I will have to step out on a limb and do it the "Bi-polar reporter way." It's who I fucking became through all these incredible tests.

The world needs a bad ass like me right about now. And I appear to have taken some torture this last time around at KVHD. These people played a role in our collective drama, as I needed to be put to the test where I would NEVER fucking fear anything again.

Thanks pussies. 

This makes me quite scary...

Yes, people who are on the side which has overwhelmed the sense of balance in the world, (nothing more or less, let's not get too caught up in the evil paradigm) --it takes a certain kind of person, bi-polar, to tackle the conundrum.

Other people would rather compromise. Me--not so much.

There's an imbalance which will need correcting so our earth isn't overwhelmed. That's why certain people such as myself, as I'm only one of many, who have woken up-- are paying attention--and for fuck's sake actually DO SOMETHING.

When did the people in Nazi Germany decide to take action? How many people died--suffered--while everyone was politically correct and trying to be respectful- accommodating? 

We can't risk the whole planet, can we?

Most people who have been ahead of their time are often in danger as the rest of the world isn't necessarily ready for the kind of shift that will be taking place. Today is no different, except that we have come to a rather final place: we can and will destroy ourselves if some major change does not occur. 

I'm up to the task

Having gone thru madness--one trial after another my life required I learn--and rapidly.

When I discovered the hospital's administrative charade which used my good will to try and obtain a tax measure on the community in the valley--the unnecessary killing and drugging of elderly patients--an attempt to buy me off then a subsequent attack when that didn't work.

I learned about fear.

I was attacked by a rapist, so I learned what rape is about--the violence. I also learned I could match that violence and even one up the attacker.

I hit a bathtub with my head. I learned about life as opposed to death. It may have appeared as free choice, but that was a set up as I did not want to leave and be bored...or not be here right now.

Ten days later I stroked out, had a speech problem. I still managed to call the former CEO of KVHD and tell her the reckoning would be delayed, with only half my face operating. But I mentioned it would not stop me.

And it didn't.

The end of 2010 I had the great displeasure slamming my car door on my face during a KVHD meeting. Of course, I covered the meeting even with blood trickling down my face, unaware I had broken a tooth and damaged a second one.

I learned that I do stay focused...on certain things. lol

This lead to the use of more pain killers and subsequently several bouts of Bradycardia, or slow heart rate, like 29 beats per minute.

It also opened an opportunity for a certain asshole medical director to hit me with Narcan while I was full of opiates. This was done in a shady manner, they did not tell me they were doing this...nor was it done correctly.

I call it a doctor induced death experience as I have never felt that kind of pain. My favorite grandparents, who are dead, were at my bedside for the adventure. While I had a sensation of being cold, or freezing, starting from my chest down, I did think I was dead or dying.

The Narcan was followed by tremendous hallucinations. Mostly skulls, some were dancing with top hats, while others were in tuxedos. Fucking insane.

My life was saved by a lot of different events and people. There was so much energy to keep me going, but not only that--to help me transcend and get stronger.

I learned to laugh and own the pain. 


I had a gun pointed at me, along with a very direct death threat allowed to remain published on the Kern Valley Sun (burnt), local newspaper website requesting that "someone take her out."

It did nothing but make me bristle. I told my would be killers via my blog that if they were going to shoot me they had better fucking do it right. "Wing me and you will fucking only piss me off," I wrote.

However, I did learn that some people are sleepwalkers who have no social conscience.

Then...November came last year and I could no longer take the doctor dope, nor be controlled by the drugs.

I got royally angry, foaming at the mouth mad when my doctor had me sign paperwork which she misrepresented. Then the following day my pain management doctor decided I was too early on my prescription.

My anger surged to a point that I blacked out.

I learned that I can get so angry that I can't even remember.

The whole mess seemed too much to handle, and I wanted to be dead. One thing lead to another and paramedics and police were hauling me out of my house.

I now remember why I got scared and ran to a church across from the hospital seeking harbor. The faith less people at the church sent me on my way as they didn't want to deal with a "fugitive from justice" as I was being called.

Read this blog from November 8, 2011 on and you will know what I learned from that.


Things fucking change, don't they?

It's time for me to be who I am in every single respect. At the bottom of my core I feel a tumultuous rumble of change throughout my whole being.

My faith has become strong. The universe is my cartographer, mapping out my every move. I feel very much in touch with each and every lesson.

I clearly remember the moment I woke up in jail. lol

A tray of weenies and beans came to me thru the door and I pushed it back out the door-- food dropping to the floor--much to the shock of one guard-- I was so excited to suddenly know!

But a message arrived at that moment: "Allow everyone to have their own experience."

Meaning: Don't try to change how they perceive me and the world. 

I quickly apologized to the female guard and the inmate who was helping her. They both looked shocked, so I tried to play down the reason I did what I did.  Oops, sorry that was related to my spiritual awakening. LOL

The guard got a slightly upset, but the inmate told me I could have saved the food and eaten it later. Sage advice as my body went hungry. Luckily, my soul was tied up with other matters--celebration really.

The time is now...

We all have a role to play on either side of the football.  

There is more certainty in my mind today...I'm still processing and researching, learning--but things were set in motion long before this time. I can look back on my life and see this coming.

You think George Orwell was a fiction writer? lol- Well, he was a visionary.

But...what Orwell didn't count on was the fucking tenacity of one Bi-polar American. 

More to follow...it's time for a road trip this weekend. Easter weekend...resurrecting some other life issues?  lol

Sunday, April 1, 2012

When the student lights up the teacher...

Holy shit!

I came to London to see my friend. But actually I got here and she saw me. Today is the day I know more about myself- my current state- then I have in a very long time... if ever.

My friend is not just anybody, she's extraordinary.

But I want to preface this by saying that I have used this blog to tell the truth. And that truth has not always been a pretty picture. It's often difficult for me to justify doing this publicly, but I'm not going to stray from what has worked to change me.

There are issues that I would rather deal with outside of a public forum, but having done this, it has the effect that I'm no longer harboring problems--keeping these things out of the light.


The student...

My friend, who was only seventeen at the time, came into  my life during a period when my whole foundation starting shifting. It was the year my mother died and to survive I had to face those secrets we keep in the darkness. 

I've been facing a lot of issues recently--most of it accounted for on this blog. Layer upon layer of self deception as I've covered up what I thought were my weaknesses. Peeling it all off has been much like scraping paint: long and tedious. I can recall when I was 20 years old, thinking I would need maybe 250 years to get the hang of life. None of this came natural to me.

Today, my friend was able to reflect back to me pictures- images- beliefs I have become out of touch with such as--my anger/rage.

We discussed KVHD and the fact is that they may have hurt me, even tortured me of recent, but I can and will not allow it to happen again. But it is over. That's if I want it to be over. It's a choice I have when I acknowledge and accept it.

It's a problem when I bury it away from my own watchful eye. Neither of us could deny there were not real or unimagined hurts that were never allowed to be just what they were-- thus allowing them to heal. The pain stretched out over a long period of time--one thing on top of another.

Differentiating passion and anger...

I am passionately against hurting other people...yet, I'm really good at it myself. The difference would only be that I get angry at "possibly" justifiable events. But I don't just get angry, the whole world falls apart and I come unglued.

While dissecting the matter, my friend made a good point that I generally seem to manage to deal with my own pain rather well, and in a controlled fashion...most of the time. However, my mode of operation has been to help others. This well maybe my own fabrication as I internally try to hold onto the pain, but it manifests as a need to fucking fight even harder, more furiously, for people who "seem" to be victims.

Why did Batman fight?

You got a past, you got a past. What can you do? Accept it and own it, was the wisdom of the day.

My friend said there's no denying that she respects what I try to accomplish, but I often come out of these fights bloodied and bruised. The latter maybe all that needs changing.

I've acted in a confrontational way most of my life. Though I prefer to get along with other people, it seems that I will be blunt if the situation deems it necessary. A blunt instrument that is...

And most likely I will fight for other people as most won't fight for themselves. I can hardly stand it. It's like a crooked picture which needs to be straightened. Lord help those I've focused my laser on as there will be only ashes when the smoke clears. Again, that has been a choice whether I admit it or not.

But what if it's for a reason...

I'm bent but definitely not broken. What if life needs a character that has a lifetime of experience fighting?

Well, if it doesn't it would not have created me...wouldn't you think?

I'm here, this is what I am and what I do.

Then maybe I choose to change...

One way or another I will make many decisions and possibly implement new changes in my life. More awareness is in order. Also translating that awareness into daily life requires diligence and dealing with all the details.

Wow, what a complicated task it seems sometimes when we don't exactly know what motivates us to do the things we do.

Is it just low self esteem? LOL

What does that mean anyway. We as a creature, a human, I've observed tend to use words as if they are somehow known as concrete - the same definition for everyone. When I look at something and define it on this blog, I'm sure others will have their own interpretation of what I"ve written.

Hell, some people who have grammatical OCD can't stand to read me. My sentence structure is so weak and they just want to fix it.

I can relate to that feeling when it comes to my rules on justice. I think the sentence is weak and I just want to fix it.

My friend was able to do what not too many, if any, others have really done which is sharpen her knife and begin digging the bullets out.

There was no denying anything today- really that's the way it needs to be. I came here for a reason to be with someone who is not afraid to provide "passionate" feedback. We care about each other in a platonic, familial way, and with her Spanish temper, it works out. Oh, and her OCD about a lot organizational issues. She just wishes I was more strategic and less "rush the castle."

But being a bad ass does require some dramatic flair.  lol

She's much more conservative as she seeks to AVOID conflict with her schedule. Admittedly, there's some extremes in both of us, which makes us perfect to reflect a surface we can see ourselves in--a mirror.

It's a perspective that we need to get in to see certain things. If I want to see truth I must look at a multitude of factors to even know the truth...of really anything. Sometimes I am in judgment I cannot see specific truths because of it. Once I let go of the judgment, employing acceptance, not trying or thinking of changing anything, there is more truth.

What truth do I act on, can be a real tough question. I've overreacted- but then I've also underreacted many times too. It's not either: it appears to be that moment of "just right" when I make a move that works for me. A car moves out of the way exactly when I need it to so that I may continue to speed along. Or I throw a piece of paper towards the trash and it ricochets off the wall and lands in the trashcan anyway.

It was just right.

I'll absorb and take in all that was said today. It's already processing, I can feel it in my reaction to certain issues.

I guarantee I will not be the only one changed by talking about these life items we take for granted and sleep walk thru. (The word through has three silent letters...and I think we can dump them. I'm much too busy to spell that out. I feel okay taking liberties with language. As always...I digress)

My friend heard some things today that I told her I really did not want to lie about to myself anymore. My rage being part of it. From this point on I will have more control of it simply by acknowledging it. I may have to do this repeatedly, but each time, I get a new truth.

After my lights came on this afternoon, I could feel pain in various parts of my body. My hands were shaky, I was uncertain. All good signs indicating the conflicts have risen to the surface.

Before I began this post, I packed away the story I wrote when I had some memory flashbacks and became angry two days ago. I'll re-post it--I can't run away from my feelings. 

Unedited- Live- that's the effect I attempt to project on this blog. Not a huge stretch, but the raw material is good for introspective analysis--that's why I prefer to make myself write it out as it comes along.

"I'm learning to fly" ...Tom Petty. Youtube it--listen to the live version--when the audience sings along they all have a perspective on this song, an energy...try to feel it. 

Have a great night...turn off the tube and get some truth and passion. Let it happen. Laura Hart (the bi-polar explorer)