Hanging out in Orange County, California is full of mystery and excitement. Not really. It's rather bland as each suburb looks like the other. It's easy to get lost because of the lack of identity the place seems to have.
What stands out for me is the train track everyone rides. Residents jog or walk along the cement side walks off major streets ignoring the exhaust wafting at them at rush hour. The reoccurring fast food establishments. The bi-lingual signage. A college which hosts a major swap meet on the weekends. The same family park on every corner.
How do the ducks know where to park?
New Year:
This year is different. Done.
No, it's going to be a blazer as it's an election year, and I elect to continue to not just talk truth, but shout it, sing it, gargle it-whatever it takes is the motto. Protesting, petitioning, and propagating fair play are on the schedule.
Several new stories or continuations will appear shortly after I, ehem, (clearing throat) deal with the computer problems which started last year with Hughes Net. Pradman Kaul CEO of Hughes Nest, took one on the chin on my other blog: Your Government Your Problem: an Owners manual.
There are many blogs to write, much ado with the current adornment, hand written, on the 5150 mobeel I drive around with a sense of myself. Who else writes with markers on their car? If you know someone else please do let me know as they must be a kindred spirit.
Upcoming Titles:
Sick Degrees of Separation
The Good, the Bad, and the Unrepentent.
Social Security: the oxymoron
More to follow....Laura Hart The Bi-polar American
Monday, December 30, 2013
Monday, December 16, 2013
The Bi-Polar American in the OC-Delighted
A month ago, I set out from "festering wound" which is what I call the Kern River Valley, the area being invaded by politicians who have named the area unsafe because of a dam which they are supposedly replacing. But as I have described on this blog these problems are so deep as the water is murky, and local residents have not a clue what these Sacra-meanto leaders will be doing next.
My foray finds me in the Orange County area where I grew up, in fact, staying right behind the house my family lived in.
It's been a trying month, I can only describe it as akin to the Meet the Fockers movie. I wrecked my friends car, almost took out her new washer with my comforter wrapping around and choking the machine then went onto spill a dark colored soda onto the mattress staining it permanently. And wrapping up my accident file, apparently it's not common to have guests in the neighborhood drawing and writing on their car.
I apologized profusely, as we do when things are so over the top. My friend of forty years has forgiven me, even though there was no intention on my part to actually harm her belongings, or startle the neighborhood with my 5150 moebeel now covered in free advertisements drawn or written by me.
But there you go, it's a start, even fraught with the accidents, I had one more thing to do, which was to get myself placed into the worst behavioral facility in the State of California, according to my friend and research assistant. F-
I didn't know going into the unit it was the type of place which caused my symptoms to increase, my peace of mind to splinter, and before I knew it, the staff was attempting to control what I could or couldn't do when when I left the facility.
Mood ring was burned to my finger by the time I got thru the medical check and headed into the hospital. I could not even follow a few short requests, such as sit down.
"Oh yeah, why?"
Then the staff came out from behind the counter and grabbed me trying to push me into the chair. I shifted and shimmied until they gave up, threatening isolation for my recalcitrant attitude.
It was a tough beginning, as the phlebotomist arrived for a blood test, but I took a mouth full of water from the drinking fountain, held it in my cheeks, then spit a small amount in his direction.
"That is it, I don't need this," he yelled as he receded from the scene. I didn't actually spray him, but the threat was there.
It is tough to talk about certain actions I took in the hospital that should be discussed.
That first night, a woman in the bed next to me was snoring. I commented that I was short on sleep, and I would wake her to tell her when it was too loud. Then I went to the nurses and asked to be moved, but they still were not over the chair incident.
The woman snored and snored, and finally I woke her up. "Please to God roll over" is what I uttered thru clenched teeth. She didn't want to have any responsibility claiming she can't help what she does in her sleep.
Then she got nasty about it, and TRUTH, before I knew it I was pelting her with sweaters and clothing.
Shocked she got up and ran to the nurses, who came charging to her aid. Me, naked except for a hospital gown, found myself grabbing the nurse and going for it. He came up reaching for me so I grabbed him first, and the fight began. His eyes were shocked as to how strong I was so he called for back up.
But I was wound up, always when someone attacks me, so I aimed for the balls, and even told him I would do it. Bruce Lee style I did indeed kick him in the balls. The fight was over as there were multiple people holding me down.
Wow, I said it, truth hurts, but that is what happened. I was dragged down the hall, burning my knees and feet on the ancient vinyl flooring.
This was not the end, as I logged in two more fights, and plenty of shots in the ass to put me out. I even faked a heart attack and stroke, when the word was they would be holding me longer than expected.
I told the staff, the truth that it was a panic attack, and that we are all responsible as they never even cared enough to check out my claims.
Ready to leave, I modified my behavior the best I could, so then the day came to leave. An hour away from release my anti-social worker told me I would have to get clean of all drugs or alcohol, attend meetings, go to a program daily which would replace what the hospital controlled.
I broke down crying, weeping for the loss of freedom. But I really needed to leave get back to my friend's place, I could not agree to these impositions. As it is I am under pressure to get a job and place to live, but this is unnecessary.
The tears streamed down my face, as I don't like life anyway, but to shackle me to the program was not an option.
"Forget it," I told them, "I'll just stay."
Suddenly the worker says,"well we can't keep you forever."
"Oh yes you can," I finished up with.
They took away my release and it was now all up in the air again. BUT...I had a Writ of Habeus Corpus in the court, and managed to remember to check on it. I found out there were some screw ups which made the hospital's position in less control.
Next morning, I kept on the trail to leave, but leave with my own agenda intact. The writ was in my favor, I left as a voluntary, so no extra hospital direction was needed.
Happy camper I was coming home the victor against such vicious control freaks. The cost of the program along with the time, is not helpful. But had I left that day I would be bound in a worse position of having to make meetings, group sessions, and a leash that if I didn't do it, I would be back in the hospital.
Oh yeah, these are the days, and more to follow. I'm at the library in Cypress, with two minutes left to write.
Laura Hart the bipolar american
My foray finds me in the Orange County area where I grew up, in fact, staying right behind the house my family lived in.
It's been a trying month, I can only describe it as akin to the Meet the Fockers movie. I wrecked my friends car, almost took out her new washer with my comforter wrapping around and choking the machine then went onto spill a dark colored soda onto the mattress staining it permanently. And wrapping up my accident file, apparently it's not common to have guests in the neighborhood drawing and writing on their car.
I apologized profusely, as we do when things are so over the top. My friend of forty years has forgiven me, even though there was no intention on my part to actually harm her belongings, or startle the neighborhood with my 5150 moebeel now covered in free advertisements drawn or written by me.
But there you go, it's a start, even fraught with the accidents, I had one more thing to do, which was to get myself placed into the worst behavioral facility in the State of California, according to my friend and research assistant. F-
I didn't know going into the unit it was the type of place which caused my symptoms to increase, my peace of mind to splinter, and before I knew it, the staff was attempting to control what I could or couldn't do when when I left the facility.
Mood ring was burned to my finger by the time I got thru the medical check and headed into the hospital. I could not even follow a few short requests, such as sit down.
"Oh yeah, why?"
Then the staff came out from behind the counter and grabbed me trying to push me into the chair. I shifted and shimmied until they gave up, threatening isolation for my recalcitrant attitude.
It was a tough beginning, as the phlebotomist arrived for a blood test, but I took a mouth full of water from the drinking fountain, held it in my cheeks, then spit a small amount in his direction.
"That is it, I don't need this," he yelled as he receded from the scene. I didn't actually spray him, but the threat was there.
It is tough to talk about certain actions I took in the hospital that should be discussed.
That first night, a woman in the bed next to me was snoring. I commented that I was short on sleep, and I would wake her to tell her when it was too loud. Then I went to the nurses and asked to be moved, but they still were not over the chair incident.
The woman snored and snored, and finally I woke her up. "Please to God roll over" is what I uttered thru clenched teeth. She didn't want to have any responsibility claiming she can't help what she does in her sleep.
Then she got nasty about it, and TRUTH, before I knew it I was pelting her with sweaters and clothing.
Shocked she got up and ran to the nurses, who came charging to her aid. Me, naked except for a hospital gown, found myself grabbing the nurse and going for it. He came up reaching for me so I grabbed him first, and the fight began. His eyes were shocked as to how strong I was so he called for back up.
But I was wound up, always when someone attacks me, so I aimed for the balls, and even told him I would do it. Bruce Lee style I did indeed kick him in the balls. The fight was over as there were multiple people holding me down.
Wow, I said it, truth hurts, but that is what happened. I was dragged down the hall, burning my knees and feet on the ancient vinyl flooring.
This was not the end, as I logged in two more fights, and plenty of shots in the ass to put me out. I even faked a heart attack and stroke, when the word was they would be holding me longer than expected.
I told the staff, the truth that it was a panic attack, and that we are all responsible as they never even cared enough to check out my claims.
Ready to leave, I modified my behavior the best I could, so then the day came to leave. An hour away from release my anti-social worker told me I would have to get clean of all drugs or alcohol, attend meetings, go to a program daily which would replace what the hospital controlled.
I broke down crying, weeping for the loss of freedom. But I really needed to leave get back to my friend's place, I could not agree to these impositions. As it is I am under pressure to get a job and place to live, but this is unnecessary.
The tears streamed down my face, as I don't like life anyway, but to shackle me to the program was not an option.
"Forget it," I told them, "I'll just stay."
Suddenly the worker says,"well we can't keep you forever."
"Oh yes you can," I finished up with.
They took away my release and it was now all up in the air again. BUT...I had a Writ of Habeus Corpus in the court, and managed to remember to check on it. I found out there were some screw ups which made the hospital's position in less control.
Next morning, I kept on the trail to leave, but leave with my own agenda intact. The writ was in my favor, I left as a voluntary, so no extra hospital direction was needed.
Happy camper I was coming home the victor against such vicious control freaks. The cost of the program along with the time, is not helpful. But had I left that day I would be bound in a worse position of having to make meetings, group sessions, and a leash that if I didn't do it, I would be back in the hospital.
Oh yeah, these are the days, and more to follow. I'm at the library in Cypress, with two minutes left to write.
Laura Hart the bipolar american
Thursday, October 10, 2013
Bi-Polars With Wings....
Goodday,
I've decided to rename my project to springboard other polars, from the bi-polar Americans to Bi-polars with wings. Imagine that? It is rather daunting to see all these gifts I've been impressed to witness in young and old alike. Those who have set aside their passion, their gifts, and went the Regular, store bought, common path, mundane avenue, because there is no financial support for this type of radical creativity.
As I have spoken distastefully for the game of power, money, time and sex: "Boring for dollars the pyramid scam."
It's an unfortunate circumstance, one which I must face, to face, as there is always two faces to any "transaction" of money or time or skills. Nothing shared--only sold for sale. Even one's character, integrity--up for grabs much of the time.
I will continue to imagine that we could fair up this playing field, and I will continue to ask for the help of those who have a few missing bricks in their walls. Money isn't the only involvement. Help with mentoring, researching, etc.
It's tough as I've had this passion for so long, and yet so much static with my truth telling, to tell the truth. My only modification is an infusion of some fun and chocolate.
Sometimes the worst days give way to the most powerful positive intentions. Walt, or "Dukeskywalter" my best dog friend, the only one who can tolerate me, is in surgery for cancer this afternoon (I'm waiting for a call). I looked at the Vet and told her with tears in my eyes, "I hate this life, mostly because it doesn't have to be this way."
What if you did not ever have to consider money in any decision: Would your choices change.
Hell Yeah!
What if we didn't have Time, and I'm not talking the propanga glossy seen at grocery store check stands?
It's all speculative, but I say it would be a "home."
I've decided to rename my project to springboard other polars, from the bi-polar Americans to Bi-polars with wings. Imagine that? It is rather daunting to see all these gifts I've been impressed to witness in young and old alike. Those who have set aside their passion, their gifts, and went the Regular, store bought, common path, mundane avenue, because there is no financial support for this type of radical creativity.
As I have spoken distastefully for the game of power, money, time and sex: "Boring for dollars the pyramid scam."
It's an unfortunate circumstance, one which I must face, to face, as there is always two faces to any "transaction" of money or time or skills. Nothing shared--only sold for sale. Even one's character, integrity--up for grabs much of the time.
I will continue to imagine that we could fair up this playing field, and I will continue to ask for the help of those who have a few missing bricks in their walls. Money isn't the only involvement. Help with mentoring, researching, etc.
It's tough as I've had this passion for so long, and yet so much static with my truth telling, to tell the truth. My only modification is an infusion of some fun and chocolate.
Sometimes the worst days give way to the most powerful positive intentions. Walt, or "Dukeskywalter" my best dog friend, the only one who can tolerate me, is in surgery for cancer this afternoon (I'm waiting for a call). I looked at the Vet and told her with tears in my eyes, "I hate this life, mostly because it doesn't have to be this way."
What if you did not ever have to consider money in any decision: Would your choices change.
Hell Yeah!
What if we didn't have Time, and I'm not talking the propanga glossy seen at grocery store check stands?
It's all speculative, but I say it would be a "home."
Thursday, October 3, 2013
Hellyo to all...
I've been experiencing the benefits of being a truth teller...lol Yes, you get to experience mind bending experiences and now an experienced mental contortionist, I go on.
As My content of tables of games they play, and the key players are holding the ring of power. I've recently understood J.R. Tolken's need to recreate the language...
And I have a new motto based on the ring of power, the revolution which never stops like a clock. Time traps and money power plays, this makes so much more sense to me. Even my sense of humor.
"Frodo throw away that dam ring of power into mount doom so we can go home to the shire--Your Friend Sam."
I'll be in touch on the facebook bi-polar american site....
I have had ID theft, been robbed of my own good senses, and outwardly threatened regularly. "Oh, are you still alive?"
I guess if this is considered alive then I am, but I realize my readers know I consider this my lie. Stage and players, this is beginning to get interesting.
Take good care, don't sell out to fear and loathing, and I'll keep my truth coming....
Laura Hart--The bi-polar American
As My content of tables of games they play, and the key players are holding the ring of power. I've recently understood J.R. Tolken's need to recreate the language...
And I have a new motto based on the ring of power, the revolution which never stops like a clock. Time traps and money power plays, this makes so much more sense to me. Even my sense of humor.
"Frodo throw away that dam ring of power into mount doom so we can go home to the shire--Your Friend Sam."
I'll be in touch on the facebook bi-polar american site....
I have had ID theft, been robbed of my own good senses, and outwardly threatened regularly. "Oh, are you still alive?"
I guess if this is considered alive then I am, but I realize my readers know I consider this my lie. Stage and players, this is beginning to get interesting.
Take good care, don't sell out to fear and loathing, and I'll keep my truth coming....
Laura Hart--The bi-polar American
Thursday, August 29, 2013
"Boring for Dollars"--The Pyramid Scam: Part one
As I begin to unravel the ball of string given to us kittens to play with as we wile away our "lives" I'd like to begin with the system which controls it all: Money.
It's not an equitable situation, nor is it supposed to be. It isn't real in fact, it's the worst board game I've ever played.
Let's start with who created the money system?
Someone with needs, I would guess. Big needs, needs to control the whole world, land, and seas, and all the inhabitants thereof.
Noticably money has all sorts of language ties to most everything. Meaning it is a part of everything that goes on here in life on earth.
As I examined or purged all the words tied to money right from my brain full of labels, I was quite exhausted as most words can be linked to laws, health, social hierarchy, all COSTING something.
Let's start with a few words that stood out, one being "trickle down effect." From where does it trickle and it appears to be going up, not down.
I question why we are missing the point that Time is Money, the reality we are expected to exist in and or rise above. I've never put money before other more important words such as compassion or fairness.
My friend who never agrees with me, questions me vigorously, so I asked her why do we have to have a system with Money?
Shocked, she said, "Good point, why not--maybe we don't."
The difficult part for many to let loose of, is that some people deserve more, or are better, therefore money and all it can buy, serve to show the worth or worthiness of people. Competition is the lowest energy, pitting people against each other, one winner and one loser. Half is expected then to be lesser than the other half.
Hence, the pyramid scam, which is to keep the top both in control of the most money, but all the resources, the information, the language, the accessibility to information or inventions which would threaten to EVEN THE PLAYING FEILD.
We all cannot have what the few are feeding from, but we can recognize a "scam" when we see one and proceed to do something about it.
Human value these days revolves around surviving the levels on which your money can support you. This can change in an instant as we vote in more and more players with their teams eager for more power. Laws change that aide certain industries or Friends or family of high powered officials.
It has become natural, unquestionable, our control system. Our language shows that we consider those on the low end to be deficient or irresponsible or even stupid. Money then has become a way of saying someone is "smart" or "better."
Let's take a look at the bottom of this pyramid scam, the American Dream, the lure, the hook and bait. There is a serious crunch going on the bottom as jobs, former avenues to stay above water, are being eliminated while humans die of starvation, the land and resources are horded, education or as I call it "conditioning conformists."
The pyramid scam seems more of a prison. Can't go or do or be anything without money. And all in a certain time frame. From birth to death, it's all about money or penalties for not adhering to the rules of the game.
IOU a further explanation with some drawings to illustrate this ghastly and cruel system. My theory of this false system, this prison, goes on. We will be discussing it as I enter the dragon of supporting this blog, the creative thinkers, on this slanted playing field.
Laura Hart--The bi-Polar American
It's not an equitable situation, nor is it supposed to be. It isn't real in fact, it's the worst board game I've ever played.
Let's start with who created the money system?
Someone with needs, I would guess. Big needs, needs to control the whole world, land, and seas, and all the inhabitants thereof.
Noticably money has all sorts of language ties to most everything. Meaning it is a part of everything that goes on here in life on earth.
As I examined or purged all the words tied to money right from my brain full of labels, I was quite exhausted as most words can be linked to laws, health, social hierarchy, all COSTING something.
Let's start with a few words that stood out, one being "trickle down effect." From where does it trickle and it appears to be going up, not down.
I question why we are missing the point that Time is Money, the reality we are expected to exist in and or rise above. I've never put money before other more important words such as compassion or fairness.
My friend who never agrees with me, questions me vigorously, so I asked her why do we have to have a system with Money?
Shocked, she said, "Good point, why not--maybe we don't."
The difficult part for many to let loose of, is that some people deserve more, or are better, therefore money and all it can buy, serve to show the worth or worthiness of people. Competition is the lowest energy, pitting people against each other, one winner and one loser. Half is expected then to be lesser than the other half.
Hence, the pyramid scam, which is to keep the top both in control of the most money, but all the resources, the information, the language, the accessibility to information or inventions which would threaten to EVEN THE PLAYING FEILD.
We all cannot have what the few are feeding from, but we can recognize a "scam" when we see one and proceed to do something about it.
Human value these days revolves around surviving the levels on which your money can support you. This can change in an instant as we vote in more and more players with their teams eager for more power. Laws change that aide certain industries or Friends or family of high powered officials.
It has become natural, unquestionable, our control system. Our language shows that we consider those on the low end to be deficient or irresponsible or even stupid. Money then has become a way of saying someone is "smart" or "better."
Let's take a look at the bottom of this pyramid scam, the American Dream, the lure, the hook and bait. There is a serious crunch going on the bottom as jobs, former avenues to stay above water, are being eliminated while humans die of starvation, the land and resources are horded, education or as I call it "conditioning conformists."
The pyramid scam seems more of a prison. Can't go or do or be anything without money. And all in a certain time frame. From birth to death, it's all about money or penalties for not adhering to the rules of the game.
IOU a further explanation with some drawings to illustrate this ghastly and cruel system. My theory of this false system, this prison, goes on. We will be discussing it as I enter the dragon of supporting this blog, the creative thinkers, on this slanted playing field.
Laura Hart--The bi-Polar American
Friday, August 9, 2013
Support your local Bi-polar
I"ve been waiting to begin my torrent of writing projects, but as we KNOW on this site most certainly, is money is the object.
I not only want to get my projects finished, or started in some cases, lol, so I am experimenting with the ideas of how to infuse money into the picture to release the people, tools, which had no backing.
TAlent is there, in all of us. Others need a hand up to get there projects off the ground.
There are so many ways to toy with one person's money. Chase bank and I are QUIT. A couple months of nonsense and it's over.
BUt Wells Fargo showed me the easiest way to fund this project "The bi-polar Americans..." There are checks, visa's, and cash, which can get tricky. Here's the deal, if you want to support this worthy adventure, this is how easy it can work:
My Well's Fargo representative said, "Anyone can come to a Well's Fargo branch and ask to deposit Money in Laura Hart's account.
Wow. Well's Fargo is everywhere.
You don't have to reveal who you are, if you don't want to. And you get a receipt which should correspond with my banks records. And I'll check it and report what the money bought.
For instance, my hacked to the bone computer took a shower recently, and a laptop with video editing is a must. This is just one of many things.
For more info email me: Muymala@msn.com
I not only want to get my projects finished, or started in some cases, lol, so I am experimenting with the ideas of how to infuse money into the picture to release the people, tools, which had no backing.
TAlent is there, in all of us. Others need a hand up to get there projects off the ground.
There are so many ways to toy with one person's money. Chase bank and I are QUIT. A couple months of nonsense and it's over.
BUt Wells Fargo showed me the easiest way to fund this project "The bi-polar Americans..." There are checks, visa's, and cash, which can get tricky. Here's the deal, if you want to support this worthy adventure, this is how easy it can work:
My Well's Fargo representative said, "Anyone can come to a Well's Fargo branch and ask to deposit Money in Laura Hart's account.
Wow. Well's Fargo is everywhere.
You don't have to reveal who you are, if you don't want to. And you get a receipt which should correspond with my banks records. And I'll check it and report what the money bought.
For instance, my hacked to the bone computer took a shower recently, and a laptop with video editing is a must. This is just one of many things.
For more info email me: Muymala@msn.com
So, simply go to Well's Fargo and SAy, "Hey I want to deposit money in Laura Hart's account."
If they say Laura who, they're lying....You say The bipolar American Laura Hart. (likely to confuse them, lol)
Keep is simple, Laura Hart from Well Done CAlifornia.....@@@@@
Only send what you can afford......Thanks
Thursday, July 4, 2013
Deception specialist maximize dread
Learning the taste of poison and so forth has changed what I do. Not for the feint of heart? What did that mean when they said it.
It means I have a lot of language skills. lol
It also means it's scary at times....which times I say?
Just watch your local mind brain benders and it's all I need....ur, not really. Hences, the code, you have thus seen so far.
The code is long and a winding road. Gets a bit lonely but it's worth a while younger. lol
Laura: Atlast The bipolar american.......ized again.
It means I have a lot of language skills. lol
It also means it's scary at times....which times I say?
Just watch your local mind brain benders and it's all I need....ur, not really. Hences, the code, you have thus seen so far.
The code is long and a winding road. Gets a bit lonely but it's worth a while younger. lol
Laura: Atlast The bipolar american.......ized again.
Monday, May 27, 2013
Don't change a Thing! Spare Change
What would I change about me? Or you
change me?
It's been a long time, I know, 50 years
of great luck, and I've heard those words “I wouldn't want to
change anything about you” people have actually said that to me.
Usually these people have known me less
than one month.Either that or they were asleep at the time.
I seek to find the truth, but more so,
the truth for and about me. Change would depend on what I find.
Others however are ready and willing to change me regularly.
My friends even put up a plaque at
their house which is a bit of a slap, and maybe the truth too: “A
friend is someone who knows all about you, but likes you anyway.”
You see what I mean? A put down that
makes them look good for having me as a friend. They put this up
after a conversation about “me” and I see it all the time, and
just wonder. What exactly would they want to change about me?
Specifically, this information could
help me. I'll just become a conformist, learn to fit in, and die with
no memory and no truth.
I was in the grocery store and some
fucking song kept playing/repeating, “I don't want to change
myself.” There was a lull, and I spoke out loud, “I want to
change me.”
Everyone started laughing, which didn't
make me feel good. Then they were, “aw, you don't have to change.”
Then I argued the case.
“You don't know me well enough to
realize the breadth of change I am in need of. I'm really needing
some change. Ask anyone”
“Give it a month and you won't be
able to stand me. It's an ugly reality.”
They defended me against myself.
“Your not that bad.” (Could have
been a better try there, but nevertheless)
“You're fine.” (What the fuck does
that mean? Fine enough as in a “fine wine” or “fine chick” or
“getting by” just fine. ?)
I vehemently argued against there
platitudes, bored, still insistent on this changing myself thing.
Into what?
I suppose I would make my mouth shut
for longer durations, without spitting out every thought onto the
pavement.
I'm sure others would agree, but they
also want me to stop being “unpredictable.” This is both what
some call my “genius” and others my stupidity.
Never knowing what I'm going to do, or
pointing out obvious truths to deluded masses, out loud—in
writing, then you become like me: An urban legend.
Yes, it's impossible now to even fathom
what some certain people would want me to do or where I should go,
but it's also about things I never did and never would do.
I may be crazy, but I'm picky about my
crazy.
Bi-polar chic, we call it around here.
Methodical would be the word. Not
maniacal, though I can be, there is a method to my madness.
It appears though, that right now, it's
time for some change. I was hoping to simply change the world, now
it appears to be more of a challenge of doing something about me.
Since everyone I know seems to either
want to change me without openly saying it, but definitely trying to
impliment suggestions. Seeded with this corrected thinking, what
would become of me?
And everyone knows I'm simply a riot
waiting to start. Rodney King couldn't do it better.
It's true.
I was discussing the hospitals in Kern
County, and realized I have had an “incident” at most hospitals.
There is no where here in this county for me.
One hospital may-lee included being
thrown onto a marble floor as I tried to leave. Grabbed and shaken,
definitely stirred, a nurse woke me after I took a dose of my own
medication. Security guards, police and finally Elvis got the hell
out of the building. All Because I took my own meds.
Though I must say the Rural Health
Clinic in town KRV, “cleared” me for a visit. It took a week of
gut wrenching decision making, but finally they called and I was
among the priviledged who are allowed to make an appointment.
Which I did.
I was precise that I was there to clear
up the thyroid and the growth in my nose. Now, the growth is bugging
me, and the thyroid is questionable, as those pills taste just like
sugar. But I cannot take the Seroquell.
Oh yes, my recent secret weapon against
my “abundance of energy” causes leg cramps and jumpy legs.
Horrible stuff.
The Doctor at Rural Health yelled to
the nurse, “StAt!!”
I just stood there kind of surprised.
Wondering what was so important. He tells the assistant. “Get her
in with a Psych immediately.”
Mind you, I had not said hardly a word,
just listening. But apparently, my Urban Legend, had arrived.
He chose not to prescribe anything for
the psych, rather to alarm everyone in the office that Laura Hart was
out of viable Psych meds.
“Yeah, that's great.”
The doctor, who is a first timer, never
seen or spoken to me, has put the whole health clinic on alert as if
I've climbed a fence or dug out of Alcatraz.
So, I wonder what would he change about
me. Probably everything.
He told me at one point, that he is a
“woman's doctor—I”m a gynecologist” he declares. Like I give
a fuck, and being a woman it should be vaginally correct--but he goes
on to explain that he cannot satisfy all the needs of a crazy
bi-polar. I swear he said it just like this:
“I take parts out and I put some back, it depends, I stretch or tuck,” he really said this. The point I don't know, but I am going to watch my parts around him.
“I take parts out and I put some back, it depends, I stretch or tuck,” he really said this. The point I don't know, but I am going to watch my parts around him.
So, I'm sleepless, restless, and it's
true, I have nothing but street drugs, or marijuana, to help me
“hold on” thru this stat crisis.
Have a great day and don't think the
people around you are planning your change of life....they really
are.
Laura Hart—the Bi-polar American
Sunday, May 19, 2013
The Lights in the sky at night: My attitude
I've been jotting down a few of the stories that come with a serious romance with the truth. IDK, but it's a jolly good thing I have a sense of humor. It's also best to really deconstruct the thinking tracks and lay a little fresh iron.
I have been filming, only for my own data finding tour, and reading and seeing all sorts of new items. New experiences, Charlie Brown. In the environment. Glasses to "correct" my fawlty sense, are no longer the only reality, or primary source of percieved info.
So, with that vagueness I proceed.
UFO: Road side assistance.
One morning in search of something unknown, but relying on faith and boredom, I set out in the 5150 mobile, up the side of a mountain. A long and windy road.
Earlier in the drive I had no memory of hitting a tree, stalks sticking out of the hood over the engine, Side view mirror gone.
Now I had a different issue, my tires were spinning in the dirt, becoming deep and silty. I got stuck, then backed into a ditch.
I"m sitting there, barely a moment, thinking, "oh shit, no one knows where I am, I don't have a phone, and I'll only bury the car by continuing the effort.
My destination seemed to be before me, a walk was possible, as I had become restless with the secrecy. I can feel this, whether I or anyone else cares, likes, judges. It's just happening, as in the famous, "Inspector Clouseau" movies, "The pink Panther."
I hadn't been stopped when suddenly a small truck was behind me. Guy, clean cut, just clean looking, told me I was in a ditch. I could feel the mindfuck.
"You're in a ditch."
I"m looking at him, "yeah."
Then he askes who to call, I say, "know one." He called the CHP. Got back in the car and suddenly they were gone.
NOt a couple minutes later came the CHP.
With instruction and the use of a huge off road vehicle we pushed WAlter and I up on the road. Had us turn around of course, so we left, and drove around realizing, that was some dam good road side assistance.
If I were caught somewhere else, the CHP would not have came rushing to my aid out in the middle of knowhere.
But thanks. Really.
The truth is what it is. An ever ending series of questions, suggestions, causes, effects. If you ask me what I believe you'll find, "not much." This is Bi-polar country, riding these tsunami waves of existence, change a constant reminder of the flimsy bits left of a whole map or history.
This blog contains bread crumbs, as we know that gosh darn memory problem associated with age and diet related causes, forgets simple items such as hitting trees with a car. Where does it end with memory, our own controls, or no control?
Get me Some GINKO Biloba baby.
lol
Hope all who suffer with these ugly scenarios arising out there begin to effectively deal it a just a better attitude. The truth not a welcome visitor for most of us.
It's my attitude that the truth permeate anything that remains false.
May cause stomach upset, or it did for me this week, when I say we each have to pardon ourself for mising the most obvious. Pride goeth before a fall or even pratfall, as it should.
Thanks to all those who attempt truth in compassion and communication.
Laura Hart, The bi-polar American
I have been filming, only for my own data finding tour, and reading and seeing all sorts of new items. New experiences, Charlie Brown. In the environment. Glasses to "correct" my fawlty sense, are no longer the only reality, or primary source of percieved info.
So, with that vagueness I proceed.
UFO: Road side assistance.
One morning in search of something unknown, but relying on faith and boredom, I set out in the 5150 mobile, up the side of a mountain. A long and windy road.
Earlier in the drive I had no memory of hitting a tree, stalks sticking out of the hood over the engine, Side view mirror gone.
Now I had a different issue, my tires were spinning in the dirt, becoming deep and silty. I got stuck, then backed into a ditch.
I"m sitting there, barely a moment, thinking, "oh shit, no one knows where I am, I don't have a phone, and I'll only bury the car by continuing the effort.
My destination seemed to be before me, a walk was possible, as I had become restless with the secrecy. I can feel this, whether I or anyone else cares, likes, judges. It's just happening, as in the famous, "Inspector Clouseau" movies, "The pink Panther."
I hadn't been stopped when suddenly a small truck was behind me. Guy, clean cut, just clean looking, told me I was in a ditch. I could feel the mindfuck.
"You're in a ditch."
I"m looking at him, "yeah."
Then he askes who to call, I say, "know one." He called the CHP. Got back in the car and suddenly they were gone.
NOt a couple minutes later came the CHP.
With instruction and the use of a huge off road vehicle we pushed WAlter and I up on the road. Had us turn around of course, so we left, and drove around realizing, that was some dam good road side assistance.
If I were caught somewhere else, the CHP would not have came rushing to my aid out in the middle of knowhere.
But thanks. Really.
The truth is what it is. An ever ending series of questions, suggestions, causes, effects. If you ask me what I believe you'll find, "not much." This is Bi-polar country, riding these tsunami waves of existence, change a constant reminder of the flimsy bits left of a whole map or history.
This blog contains bread crumbs, as we know that gosh darn memory problem associated with age and diet related causes, forgets simple items such as hitting trees with a car. Where does it end with memory, our own controls, or no control?
Get me Some GINKO Biloba baby.
lol
Hope all who suffer with these ugly scenarios arising out there begin to effectively deal it a just a better attitude. The truth not a welcome visitor for most of us.
It's my attitude that the truth permeate anything that remains false.
May cause stomach upset, or it did for me this week, when I say we each have to pardon ourself for mising the most obvious. Pride goeth before a fall or even pratfall, as it should.
Thanks to all those who attempt truth in compassion and communication.
Laura Hart, The bi-polar American
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
KVHD under FIRE, Repost
Books of books, notes are notable and will be shared with all the truth seekers and speakers soon coming here to you!
Enjoy the Latest Response to the Kern Valley Healthcare District elder abuse outcome....
(This is better voice related, I'll get back to you on that audios amigos)
It's like a Whose "HUGHES" of the news on elder abuse, after Gwen Hughes, the final defendant and lowest totem on the pole, recieved the stiffest sentence in the Kern Valley Healthcare District, elder abuse criminal case.
With Dr. Hoshang Pormir slipping thru the court "missedum" picking up his "not to do" list recently, followed by former KVHD CEO and political poles dancer, Pamela OTT, as she held her hand out palm side down this time to be slapped--last one out is a rotten egg.
Ott and Pormir were both sentenced on conspiracy charges (endangering public health) rather than the original elder abuse codes which were dropped in lieu of the "justice light" charges of this brigade from the California Depart-meant "to do" justice lead by Attorney General Kamala Harris.
Jerry Brown, former atturnkey General, now Governor of the state of mind that elder abuse "of the worst kind" was committed, divorced himself from those claims best used in campaigns and not court rooms.
The first two defendants were treated to a "buzz kill" or "stern talking to" before being handed over to the probation department--for three whole years. (wow) They also have to write "I will not drug and kill the elderly" four hundred times on a chalkboard.
Ouch!
There are different motivations for elder abuse, but it usually involves financial gain.
THe KVHD example of elder abuse shows there is a senior discounting on the oversight and justice par tof this bargain of a deal: protecting the innocent.
Politically motivated, Gwen Hughes, former KVHD director of Nursing, for all of six months, became a henchman for the group of administrators and board members hiding their already troubled Skilled Nursing Facility.
Evidence shows a trend toward understaffing the nursing home, which meant more infusion of cash into the operations and dehydrated patients the result.
Hughes was sentenced to three years jail time and in a few more years, as she is getting older, could be rolling to a senior living apartment near you. Though she has had to relinquish her nursing license forever more, and keep a distance of at least two bus stops and a senior center from anyone graying at the temples--WE do realize she will be aging and they won't be able to stop the potential for more senior predation.
Some people prefer to close the case, calling it just another example of lack of caring, or truth, but some never forget.
I could go on and on, and I will....in another post. I'll keep you posted for part three in the series "Whose Hughes in elder abuse."
Laura Hart-The Bi-Polar American
Enjoy the Latest Response to the Kern Valley Healthcare District elder abuse outcome....
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
The DOJ aded: A department of JUST US report
It's like a Whose "HUGHES" of the news on elder abuse, after Gwen Hughes, the final defendant and lowest totem on the pole, recieved the stiffest sentence in the Kern Valley Healthcare District, elder abuse criminal case.
With Dr. Hoshang Pormir slipping thru the court "missedum" picking up his "not to do" list recently, followed by former KVHD CEO and political poles dancer, Pamela OTT, as she held her hand out palm side down this time to be slapped--last one out is a rotten egg.
Ott and Pormir were both sentenced on conspiracy charges (endangering public health) rather than the original elder abuse codes which were dropped in lieu of the "justice light" charges of this brigade from the California Depart-meant "to do" justice lead by Attorney General Kamala Harris.
Jerry Brown, former atturnkey General, now Governor of the state of mind that elder abuse "of the worst kind" was committed, divorced himself from those claims best used in campaigns and not court rooms.
The first two defendants were treated to a "buzz kill" or "stern talking to" before being handed over to the probation department--for three whole years. (wow) They also have to write "I will not drug and kill the elderly" four hundred times on a chalkboard.
Ouch!
There are different motivations for elder abuse, but it usually involves financial gain.
THe KVHD example of elder abuse shows there is a senior discounting on the oversight and justice par tof this bargain of a deal: protecting the innocent.
Politically motivated, Gwen Hughes, former KVHD director of Nursing, for all of six months, became a henchman for the group of administrators and board members hiding their already troubled Skilled Nursing Facility.
Evidence shows a trend toward understaffing the nursing home, which meant more infusion of cash into the operations and dehydrated patients the result.
Hughes was sentenced to three years jail time and in a few more years, as she is getting older, could be rolling to a senior living apartment near you. Though she has had to relinquish her nursing license forever more, and keep a distance of at least two bus stops and a senior center from anyone graying at the temples--WE do realize she will be aging and they won't be able to stop the potential for more senior predation.
Some people prefer to close the case, calling it just another example of lack of caring, or truth, but some never forget.
I could go on and on, and I will....in another post. I'll keep you posted for part three in the series "Whose Hughes in elder abuse."
Laura Hart-The Bi-Polar American
Friday, March 29, 2013
Com-part-mental Case...Stand up for comedy.
My sister has called me out to take up some stand up comedy, and I just wonder if anyone is really ready for me to humorize the horrors this blog rails against regularly.
I'm sure my mind would not mind a good clearing of all the material collecting over these almost 50 years of life.
That is true, I have a lot of stories which are usually quite interesting...lol
Being a mental case who recently returned from a stay at the Hotel Aurora bore my ass off, I am considering that I had a strong attraction to the idea.
My recent foray into CODE talk, I have wondered if there are those who will get my humor. Recently my cousin told me she was concerned I was talking my new language code.
I had hoped they would ignore it, and just get what they get. lol
My good friend who hung up the phone while I was early practicing the metaphor/pun/rhyme time, asked me if I was going to begin again. Now she misses the depth, I must seem boring again.
It's the irony, regular kind, but I guess we will see.
My Sis and her Video?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xVGQAIsOb38
On the surface, I'm a language lazy type of writer. But put me in the metaphor department and I'm a shopaholic.
I guess it's time to measure the comedy circuit and find out if it's ready for me....
Competition is not an energy I revel in, but I'm willing to dump or unload some of this dust covering my bowl.
Let's see...
My sis predicts the bay area will have an earthquake, is she a Nostradamas of the new age?
She also has strict rules for English speakers if you want to check out her opinion page of Youtube vids.
I'm sure my mind would not mind a good clearing of all the material collecting over these almost 50 years of life.
That is true, I have a lot of stories which are usually quite interesting...lol
Being a mental case who recently returned from a stay at the Hotel Aurora bore my ass off, I am considering that I had a strong attraction to the idea.
My recent foray into CODE talk, I have wondered if there are those who will get my humor. Recently my cousin told me she was concerned I was talking my new language code.
I had hoped they would ignore it, and just get what they get. lol
My good friend who hung up the phone while I was early practicing the metaphor/pun/rhyme time, asked me if I was going to begin again. Now she misses the depth, I must seem boring again.
It's the irony, regular kind, but I guess we will see.
My Sis and her Video?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xVGQAIsOb38
On the surface, I'm a language lazy type of writer. But put me in the metaphor department and I'm a shopaholic.
I guess it's time to measure the comedy circuit and find out if it's ready for me....
Competition is not an energy I revel in, but I'm willing to dump or unload some of this dust covering my bowl.
Let's see...
My sis predicts the bay area will have an earthquake, is she a Nostradamas of the new age?
She also has strict rules for English speakers if you want to check out her opinion page of Youtube vids.
Wednesday, March 13, 2013
FRom AMnesiA to Allzheimers: What the hell was that?
I've wondered for a while, that we seem to come to this world with amnesia, nothing but an empty brain?
WE have no idea where or how we got here.
Then we go thru life, battling memories, habits, spoon fed instructions, and then we are all losing that information as alzheimers is the next memory eraser.
So, what can we expect to know? Our experiences, just faded memories, and then we use our memory problems to avoid responsibility for unpleasant things.
"No, I don't remember that happening."
Even if the other person has some record of events, for which there is some certainty, this person with the memory gets dissed for being so damn stubborn.
"I think you have mistaken something," or "I have no idea, but whatever you say," are usually the responses.
I would be glad to join the gang of memory bangers. How can I lose this memory so that I can live in this beautiful world, of glorious generosity, compassion?
Psych meds are on my menu, and hopefully, I can get more that will make me normal.
Laura Hart, or who knows, I can't remember my own name. lol
WE have no idea where or how we got here.
Then we go thru life, battling memories, habits, spoon fed instructions, and then we are all losing that information as alzheimers is the next memory eraser.
So, what can we expect to know? Our experiences, just faded memories, and then we use our memory problems to avoid responsibility for unpleasant things.
"No, I don't remember that happening."
Even if the other person has some record of events, for which there is some certainty, this person with the memory gets dissed for being so damn stubborn.
"I think you have mistaken something," or "I have no idea, but whatever you say," are usually the responses.
I would be glad to join the gang of memory bangers. How can I lose this memory so that I can live in this beautiful world, of glorious generosity, compassion?
Psych meds are on my menu, and hopefully, I can get more that will make me normal.
Laura Hart, or who knows, I can't remember my own name. lol
Monday, March 11, 2013
BRidgiN the Division Between ATOM AND EVE.....
Women, and history is our time this month. lol
WE are quite a group of wonderful people, who want only to family, and friends, the world around us. Good stuff, though we have been tormented a bit too much, we are hearts of gold, who continue to be leaders, even when they are continually told it's a n uphill battle.
WEll, battle that axe, as we are a nation of women, a full plate on the table of feeding life it's best stuff. Mothers are lovers and how we share this is our gifts.
May we use our new perspective as the leaders, not the tossed, dumbed down, blondes, of yesteryear, of sex symbology, and we bring our full monty to this endeavor.
Openly, I'll tell you, in my life of Unaccepted behaviors, I was told, I was not okay, as I was not a male or even a female. In the middle I rose to my own region of being woman, and hearing me roar. lol
My life saw it's time of the lowest totem on the pole, as a woman, I was not of this higher marky, I was the lower. So, I fought the rumors, that I was less.
Celebrate your female trail of amazing, awesome, history. It's yours.
Men, have yet to get the set up, and would hold their own, as a competitor, rather than united, in the sexual harassment of each other.
Set it down, let it go, as we are EQUALIZED, and the Prequel is the section of the erection of a new symbol.
Ovaries and Uterus, are the natural setting. THen the fall out becomes a penis, a scrotum, not a totem, and the origins needs a reputation of change.
Those who suffer the Fallic syndrome, hang on, there's more to this story, than a thin ego.
Women's HIstory Month, let's make history.....Together.
Laura Hart----The Bipolar AMerican
WE are quite a group of wonderful people, who want only to family, and friends, the world around us. Good stuff, though we have been tormented a bit too much, we are hearts of gold, who continue to be leaders, even when they are continually told it's a n uphill battle.
WEll, battle that axe, as we are a nation of women, a full plate on the table of feeding life it's best stuff. Mothers are lovers and how we share this is our gifts.
May we use our new perspective as the leaders, not the tossed, dumbed down, blondes, of yesteryear, of sex symbology, and we bring our full monty to this endeavor.
Openly, I'll tell you, in my life of Unaccepted behaviors, I was told, I was not okay, as I was not a male or even a female. In the middle I rose to my own region of being woman, and hearing me roar. lol
My life saw it's time of the lowest totem on the pole, as a woman, I was not of this higher marky, I was the lower. So, I fought the rumors, that I was less.
Celebrate your female trail of amazing, awesome, history. It's yours.
Men, have yet to get the set up, and would hold their own, as a competitor, rather than united, in the sexual harassment of each other.
Set it down, let it go, as we are EQUALIZED, and the Prequel is the section of the erection of a new symbol.
Ovaries and Uterus, are the natural setting. THen the fall out becomes a penis, a scrotum, not a totem, and the origins needs a reputation of change.
Those who suffer the Fallic syndrome, hang on, there's more to this story, than a thin ego.
Women's HIstory Month, let's make history.....Together.
Laura Hart----The Bipolar AMerican
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
Look around there are bread crumbs for alll......
Sweet is the final treat......
Tho the TRUTH has had a sideline of the IMAGINESSLESSLY redone playing field, I CALL "Ponzi's final stand.' Or Pyramid, shell game, whatever you know, feel under all this painful Realization.....
No ONE has to choose this Filed feild made to slant to the Dante side of an InfERNO.
READ on, as TRUTH, will be here and it ALL ready is--was--will . lol
More!
(Having a BLAST dancing. Why Mike JAcksOn must be a mentor. Sho this soooooooon! Roger that Rabbit?}
Tho the TRUTH has had a sideline of the IMAGINESSLESSLY redone playing field, I CALL "Ponzi's final stand.' Or Pyramid, shell game, whatever you know, feel under all this painful Realization.....
No ONE has to choose this Filed feild made to slant to the Dante side of an InfERNO.
READ on, as TRUTH, will be here and it ALL ready is--was--will . lol
More!
(Having a BLAST dancing. Why Mike JAcksOn must be a mentor. Sho this soooooooon! Roger that Rabbit?}
unnnnacccccceptable behavior......my story
hell----ooooo,
we SPOKE OF THE strange CIRCUMSTANCES, THAT brought me to this word, nOT world.
iT
IS
mine, mAYan STORY......
BORN This WAy......
WEll, let us BEGIN, the tale of the TIGER, as it's a hanger onner. NEVER will I let it go, until, it's TIME is UP.
STart......
I was born in the HOLLYWOOOD region, West LA, but it was VIA a home for unwed mothers. My birth was something of a quizzical event: came out on my feet.
It's the best way to get a head and a start, program.
ALSO, I flew around, YES, can you even IMAGINE? My mother did something that was not her fault, she did not BELEIVE. I could prove, I could show, but it was her job to make sure I was not doing these odds balls things that could be witnessed.
BUT I DID.....
It gets bettter, let's see how much you want to know..........MORE!!
BUt
we SPOKE OF THE strange CIRCUMSTANCES, THAT brought me to this word, nOT world.
iT
IS
mine, mAYan STORY......
BORN This WAy......
WEll, let us BEGIN, the tale of the TIGER, as it's a hanger onner. NEVER will I let it go, until, it's TIME is UP.
STart......
I was born in the HOLLYWOOOD region, West LA, but it was VIA a home for unwed mothers. My birth was something of a quizzical event: came out on my feet.
It's the best way to get a head and a start, program.
ALSO, I flew around, YES, can you even IMAGINE? My mother did something that was not her fault, she did not BELEIVE. I could prove, I could show, but it was her job to make sure I was not doing these odds balls things that could be witnessed.
BUT I DID.....
It gets bettter, let's see how much you want to know..........MORE!!
BUt
HATW else is in this HAT, CAT?
YOU are Pushing my GOOD sized, or SUPEr SIZE ME, OH< PLEASE< I cannot and WILL NOT. PERIOD, have one, ENJOOY it?
Let me knows, as I'm so DAM nosey.
QUICKEN YOUR BOOKS< you know WHAT do To. llllllllllll
Let me knows, as I'm so DAM nosey.
QUICKEN YOUR BOOKS< you know WHAT do To. llllllllllll
tahw si NI THE wATER?
aFTER A FEW DAYS OF tests OF MY hOME, i FOUND IT SO DARNED, SOCKED IN, SAM i am.
fIRST, MY heater HAS air conditioning. what????
mY thyroid PILLS, are sugar< I FINALLY TRIED IT ALL.
give me and mayan kind a sense of what the next se{ptS WILL be!!!!
wHAT ELSE DO i know.......truth, IT'S MY ONLY MAJOR leageues UNDER THE see> lET'S GO AHEAQD, i'M LIMPING, BUT THEN AGAIN, SOMETHING HAPPENED ON DUH WAY TO THE for mine< nOT yours.........
CALL ME WITH SOME REAQy WEEK and OH SO meek, I will NOT, NO, MORE, weight training is my current STATIC counter. I"m actively raqdio, listen and hear, and RE-dun dance this, and the TRUTH, I'm WIFI.
Laura GENUINE Hart ATTLAST.......You know, no LESS, only MORE. CLEAR?
fIRST, MY heater HAS air conditioning. what????
mY thyroid PILLS, are sugar< I FINALLY TRIED IT ALL.
give me and mayan kind a sense of what the next se{ptS WILL be!!!!
wHAT ELSE DO i know.......truth, IT'S MY ONLY MAJOR leageues UNDER THE see> lET'S GO AHEAQD, i'M LIMPING, BUT THEN AGAIN, SOMETHING HAPPENED ON DUH WAY TO THE for mine< nOT yours.........
CALL ME WITH SOME REAQy WEEK and OH SO meek, I will NOT, NO, MORE, weight training is my current STATIC counter. I"m actively raqdio, listen and hear, and RE-dun dance this, and the TRUTH, I'm WIFI.
Laura GENUINE Hart ATTLAST.......You know, no LESS, only MORE. CLEAR?
WHat you see and Do Not SEE.......
Why it's AMAZING to find that there is something so SIN ister, that it is also just as foooooolish to Assume, that there wood not be a RESponSE.
Here
it
is
..........
Where is your GPS sending you?
Where is LA?
Do you feel it's TRUTH?
Ask, don't FEAR {FALSE EVIDENCE APPEARING REAL) it's an implant and your being potted.
If this sense it makes, then I'll eXceptionally, take it.
MORE SOON< we HAVE no QUALMS, only.......88888888fjfjfjaslodjf;ahf;oiehf ij;aoihiuhfh;ref hjhfa;hakjh;eorhqieuroerugniuha;oija;kdhgpier'pgja;gh;oiHGA;GIUHS;OGIJ;AOIGHJN;AIG;AOG
Here
it
is
..........
Where is your GPS sending you?
Where is LA?
Do you feel it's TRUTH?
Ask, don't FEAR {FALSE EVIDENCE APPEARING REAL) it's an implant and your being potted.
If this sense it makes, then I'll eXceptionally, take it.
MORE SOON< we HAVE no QUALMS, only.......88888888fjfjfjaslodjf;ahf;oiehf ij;aoihiuhfh;ref hjhfa;hakjh;eorhqieuroerugniuha;oija;kdhgpier'pgja;gh;oiHGA;GIUHS;OGIJ;AOIGHJN;AIG;AOG
Monday, February 11, 2013
FOX NEWS..........BIll's ORILED
How's the TRUTH?
It's on and it's not HGOPINHG anywaherers...............
It's on and it's not HGOPINHG anywaherers...............
HI< there to MAyAN KInd.........
ONe things you should KNOW< it's NO!
USE that WORD, in a sense that you NEVER have afore.
I"m going to be in touch, and reach out, don't touch someone or it's mME, you deal and wheeels, with.
GOT it?
LATTST
USE that WORD, in a sense that you NEVER have afore.
I"m going to be in touch, and reach out, don't touch someone or it's mME, you deal and wheeels, with.
GOT it?
LATTST
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
AREA 5150: The latest RABbit WHole RePorts.....
It started as a wander lust thru my whole rabbit, rarebit, rare be it, called a Lie fe.
UNNACCEPTABLE BEHAVIOR......
My sister was hardly dilated ready to give birth, as I was standing around the birth center, the control of reproductions, awaiting the new arrival my nephew. She was being Induced to labor, so we had time to chat.
This was almost 25 years ago.
After a particularly painful con-traction, she suddenly looked at me and seriously ordered me: "Never tell my children about your childhood!"
I felt the shame, roll, thunder down me. Rejection, dejection, all that Jazz. It was the usual for me.
It's a moment, however, which stuck, as I was "shut up" in my life something of a question mark.
Late last night, after much soul seering searching, I am READY to bare all. lol
THE STREAK
Last week, or I name these DAZE, days----Strongs---as I hold to the TRUTH of who and what I am---I asked if I was the only one who wanted to get nekked and run thru a stadium?
One kid answered the call, "YES!"
Love that Enthusiasm, I DO!
But he suddenly quashed the notion, as he got Concerned about the CON-game-sequences of such a feat of fearlessness.
"Yeah, but what if they tackle me--take me down?"
BAIT AND TACKLE SHOP
He's right, this is definitely, without questioning my own HIGH marks, on this test, an empty basket of cases who are mentally challenged to see the MISSING pieces.
"Yes, you're correct, they would." I told him truth that this world is the ENEMY of fun and Chocolate.
For example, Last Saturday, a night on the empty street, I wanted to dance to a song on the radio. It was past midnight, no other cars in sight, I checked.
It was Flash dance, and this girl wanted enough room to dance as my legs hit the car as I jumped around. Rainy weather made it an even better surface for this dancing jig, as I was up, NOT on the cheap drugs of this life, or booze, or nuttin' honey, justing feeling good CHEER!
When I hit my stride in the slippery street, two headlights appeared out of nowhere. BUZZKILLERS. lol
I was shimmying and shaking, singing, springing about, my friend's daughter ready to leap and bound with me, when the lights headed towards us. With a mind full of Con-cerns clouding my moment--the lights were on in the car? But what if the cars driver is not paying attention?? so I GAVE up my dance and got back in the car.
We drove still playing the song, but now being tail-gated. Just about at our turn, to the house, the flash dance turned into flashing lights in my rear view mirror. The Sherif of the town, Murphy, lol, has pulled me over.
LICENSE AND REGISTRATION
"What were you doing?"
"I was dancing...." (Interrupted)
"How much have you had to drink, ma'am?"
"Nothing."
This was too much for him, and he began to question his own nose, or knows.
"I can smell the alcohol."
"You can?" I wondered, how weird.
He took my license, demanding an explanation for dancing, that would have me agree that there was something UNNACCEPTABLE about my BEHAVIOR.
I gathered my registration, my insurance proof, and guessed by his attitude, we would be unduly delayed for dancing.
THEN THERE WERE THREE
One after the other came, as this officer of the ILLAWGICAL could not get it.
Girls, some of us, just wanna have fun. And it appears this is not a popular vote. With Jails full of addicts, substituting nasty habits, for true fun, they were trying to label me.
For the first time, since I am a manual BALANCE system, my inner ear destroyed by the antibiotic Gentamicin, I would face this disability. Let me explain--My inner ear supposedly, I'm told, senses my body in space in time. when I move, so does the whole environment, visually. Kinesthetic sense, lost, so when I close my eyes, I supposedly have no balance in the dark.
I offered breathalizer, and blood, but they would not accept this offer of proof. I would be required to put my feet together, close my eyes, and tilt my head back. I have been manually operating my own system, but questioned that if one day in the future, I had to test this, what would happen.
Well, since there were three patrol cars, headlights pointed at me, the light was such it helped--went right thru my eyelids. I braced, somewhat daunted still, whether or not, I could do it---I took my feet, clapped my ankles, closed my eyes, and leaned back.
With my disability, I would have Fallen, but the light was with me, as there is FALLENDARITY for the lucky ones, as I steadied and made them question there own suspicions. I simply verified that my suspicions make more sense.
If I had fallen, as I should have based on the balance system, there would have been lawsuits, as the ambulance chaser lawyers, would suddenly befriend the lowly disabled, dancing, fool I seemed to be.
TOO SMART
Another test employed to make their case that there was something WRONG with me, was follow the pen, and heaven help you that you flinch or move your head. THE pressure was on to pass with my disability not flying.
It was too funny, I readied up for this ball point pen in my car window, as I was Instructed quickly, but sternly, NOT to move my head, only eyes, and follow his pen.
Just as we got across, him trailing the rolling writer in front of me, the length of my window, I guess, he perceived I moved my head.
Trying to help him, I explained, "I may still have some nystagmus. Let me try again."
"What, what are you talking about." The Sheriff's don't have MEDICAL lingo, so he didn't know it is an eye issue associated with inner ear destruction.
In my effort, as all things this world tend to be, I attempted to explain to him the disability. Where I was cut off and con-fronted as being "too smart."
Too drunk, too smart, too happy, Forthright in answering questions, offering Proof of blood or tests, but NEVER just okay.
DISABILITY LICENSE PLATES
My car has disabled placards, and someone asked if the police were aware of my disability. I again, suggest, to the apparently "HIGHLY suggestible" that I was questioned at least three times, as to the nature of my disability.
These plates, were ordered more than 10 years ago, and the only numbers, given to me, (a natural hand, as poker lots draw it) 5150.
Sooooo, the plates, were there screaming, "DANGER TO SELF, DANGER TO OTHERS" a false representation, a POLICE CODE, allowing them to hold someone.
IF they had been able to see past their own code, and listen for the truth, as I told them I had no BALANCE system, they may have stopped the insanity.
IN THE END
My friend's daughter had a large, anxiety pimple on her forehead, and her mother had to vouche for my safer. There was a Addendumb---They didn't trust me, so they held my car at the station, until I could get even more sober, or somber, or whatever their goal was.
BuZZ Kill Light year, has a Woody for me.....I've got the stories.
Laura Hart----The Bi-Polar AMerican????
Meet our new site: AREA 5150
Update soon....lol
UNNACCEPTABLE BEHAVIOR......
My sister was hardly dilated ready to give birth, as I was standing around the birth center, the control of reproductions, awaiting the new arrival my nephew. She was being Induced to labor, so we had time to chat.
This was almost 25 years ago.
After a particularly painful con-traction, she suddenly looked at me and seriously ordered me: "Never tell my children about your childhood!"
I felt the shame, roll, thunder down me. Rejection, dejection, all that Jazz. It was the usual for me.
It's a moment, however, which stuck, as I was "shut up" in my life something of a question mark.
Late last night, after much soul seering searching, I am READY to bare all. lol
THE STREAK
Last week, or I name these DAZE, days----Strongs---as I hold to the TRUTH of who and what I am---I asked if I was the only one who wanted to get nekked and run thru a stadium?
One kid answered the call, "YES!"
Love that Enthusiasm, I DO!
But he suddenly quashed the notion, as he got Concerned about the CON-game-sequences of such a feat of fearlessness.
"Yeah, but what if they tackle me--take me down?"
BAIT AND TACKLE SHOP
He's right, this is definitely, without questioning my own HIGH marks, on this test, an empty basket of cases who are mentally challenged to see the MISSING pieces.
"Yes, you're correct, they would." I told him truth that this world is the ENEMY of fun and Chocolate.
For example, Last Saturday, a night on the empty street, I wanted to dance to a song on the radio. It was past midnight, no other cars in sight, I checked.
It was Flash dance, and this girl wanted enough room to dance as my legs hit the car as I jumped around. Rainy weather made it an even better surface for this dancing jig, as I was up, NOT on the cheap drugs of this life, or booze, or nuttin' honey, justing feeling good CHEER!
When I hit my stride in the slippery street, two headlights appeared out of nowhere. BUZZKILLERS. lol
I was shimmying and shaking, singing, springing about, my friend's daughter ready to leap and bound with me, when the lights headed towards us. With a mind full of Con-cerns clouding my moment--the lights were on in the car? But what if the cars driver is not paying attention?? so I GAVE up my dance and got back in the car.
We drove still playing the song, but now being tail-gated. Just about at our turn, to the house, the flash dance turned into flashing lights in my rear view mirror. The Sherif of the town, Murphy, lol, has pulled me over.
LICENSE AND REGISTRATION
"What were you doing?"
"I was dancing...." (Interrupted)
"How much have you had to drink, ma'am?"
"Nothing."
This was too much for him, and he began to question his own nose, or knows.
"I can smell the alcohol."
"You can?" I wondered, how weird.
He took my license, demanding an explanation for dancing, that would have me agree that there was something UNNACCEPTABLE about my BEHAVIOR.
I gathered my registration, my insurance proof, and guessed by his attitude, we would be unduly delayed for dancing.
THEN THERE WERE THREE
One after the other came, as this officer of the ILLAWGICAL could not get it.
Girls, some of us, just wanna have fun. And it appears this is not a popular vote. With Jails full of addicts, substituting nasty habits, for true fun, they were trying to label me.
For the first time, since I am a manual BALANCE system, my inner ear destroyed by the antibiotic Gentamicin, I would face this disability. Let me explain--My inner ear supposedly, I'm told, senses my body in space in time. when I move, so does the whole environment, visually. Kinesthetic sense, lost, so when I close my eyes, I supposedly have no balance in the dark.
I offered breathalizer, and blood, but they would not accept this offer of proof. I would be required to put my feet together, close my eyes, and tilt my head back. I have been manually operating my own system, but questioned that if one day in the future, I had to test this, what would happen.
Well, since there were three patrol cars, headlights pointed at me, the light was such it helped--went right thru my eyelids. I braced, somewhat daunted still, whether or not, I could do it---I took my feet, clapped my ankles, closed my eyes, and leaned back.
With my disability, I would have Fallen, but the light was with me, as there is FALLENDARITY for the lucky ones, as I steadied and made them question there own suspicions. I simply verified that my suspicions make more sense.
If I had fallen, as I should have based on the balance system, there would have been lawsuits, as the ambulance chaser lawyers, would suddenly befriend the lowly disabled, dancing, fool I seemed to be.
TOO SMART
Another test employed to make their case that there was something WRONG with me, was follow the pen, and heaven help you that you flinch or move your head. THE pressure was on to pass with my disability not flying.
It was too funny, I readied up for this ball point pen in my car window, as I was Instructed quickly, but sternly, NOT to move my head, only eyes, and follow his pen.
Just as we got across, him trailing the rolling writer in front of me, the length of my window, I guess, he perceived I moved my head.
Trying to help him, I explained, "I may still have some nystagmus. Let me try again."
"What, what are you talking about." The Sheriff's don't have MEDICAL lingo, so he didn't know it is an eye issue associated with inner ear destruction.
In my effort, as all things this world tend to be, I attempted to explain to him the disability. Where I was cut off and con-fronted as being "too smart."
Too drunk, too smart, too happy, Forthright in answering questions, offering Proof of blood or tests, but NEVER just okay.
DISABILITY LICENSE PLATES
My car has disabled placards, and someone asked if the police were aware of my disability. I again, suggest, to the apparently "HIGHLY suggestible" that I was questioned at least three times, as to the nature of my disability.
These plates, were ordered more than 10 years ago, and the only numbers, given to me, (a natural hand, as poker lots draw it) 5150.
Sooooo, the plates, were there screaming, "DANGER TO SELF, DANGER TO OTHERS" a false representation, a POLICE CODE, allowing them to hold someone.
IF they had been able to see past their own code, and listen for the truth, as I told them I had no BALANCE system, they may have stopped the insanity.
IN THE END
My friend's daughter had a large, anxiety pimple on her forehead, and her mother had to vouche for my safer. There was a Addendumb---They didn't trust me, so they held my car at the station, until I could get even more sober, or somber, or whatever their goal was.
BuZZ Kill Light year, has a Woody for me.....I've got the stories.
Laura Hart----The Bi-Polar AMerican????
Meet our new site: AREA 5150
Update soon....lol
Friday, January 11, 2013
KVHD under Fire: Post Recycling
Friday, January 11, 2013
Edge A Caution: America's Academia-dementia
Now it's the schools that have learned how to make some dough and a few middle men seize the advantages of the game of "Edge A Caution": America the debt trappers.
Student Loans
Can't crack the old bankruptcy stick in case of emergency when your dealing yourself into the student loan card shark game.
Therefore it's a con game with an end game that could favor or disfavor, depending on the luck of the overdrawn.
Private schools such as the "alma doesn't matta" home of Kern Valley Healthcare District Cheif Financial officer, Chester Beedle, LaVerne University are an ever expanding franchise business opportunity. And teaching business is one of their specialties.
It appears as a do what we do. Find a gravy train and make a splash. And don't worry about mashing a few potatoes while boarding this "loco" motive.
Phoenix University rose from the ashes of a burned out system, not the elusive "seat of enlightment" but of a vocational splintered industry designed to paper train with immense paper trails.
It's costing too many who haven't a scholarship or a penthouse quorum at the top pyramid scam economy, and the students who falter for this bait then tackled proposition can expect to be hounded by the ever growing "debt collection" industry in case of late or non-payment.
They say Volume is the key, well the mirth makers of this loving society, have pumped it up.
I recieved a phone call the other day from one of the beneficiaries of these "hire than you are" education dealers.
These specialized colleges of no repute, prepackage their wares, offer two and four year degrees in heavily marketed career areas such as--Criminology-- national security-- or film making--a mutual menu of specialization.
--And they have a middle man.
His job is to size up the potential to simply get a warm human body to take a loan to pay for an education which may or may not be worth the cost--or guarantee any sort of pay or job in these industries--but will infuse money and possibly hope to those starved of either. No credit required or taken.
I asked this savvy solicitor who had been transferred from a front caller, who originally called to survey my educational needs. She suddenly dropped from the line and a male, more manipulative voice took over.
Before he got too far into convincing me of my education inadequacies, I interrupted and asked what business he was in. Who was he associated with and how did he make money.
Quickly he bragged that the company calling me, (or actually hired an independent telephone solicitation firm to cold call and transferred me to them) was a Fortune 500 race car of a company.
And he added they had risen to the top quickly--an industry leader for three years, he crowed.
There must be some easy footholds when climbing the ladder made of the hopes and dreams of young, aspiring, even more so, of desperate, hungry, out-of-work, Americans.
"Wow," I asked him, "who pays you?"
These ever growing school franchises are pushing dollars at "dough" nuts who don't need much to figure out a way to push "easy loans" to the poor and "undercertifiable" and I had one of these beneficiaries of the US educational system on the phone.
Not only did I learn that his company makes millions selling a dream to an insomniac population, I imagined that with a cost of 50 thousand pyramid scam dollars to complete a Bachelor's in Criminology, that Someone should get to the crime scene of this world of "Akademonic" dollars for a look&see.
These costly, over inflated programs are backed and insured by the US Government's "Go and Get 'em" student loan collection industry thriving and driving it's own Fortune 500 mobile.
"Oh sorry you're barely making it, or couldn't find a job- or had to take any damn job in any damn industry-so sorry but you are NEVER going to escape your "Stewedint" loan. Oooo, ha, ha, ha, ha (evil laugh).
It's a new list: Death, taxes, student loans (Cal Mtg. loans to underserved rural healthcare Districts)
So we have the college with all the knowlege, along with inter-nets to hold all the fishy schools, which have some FUNding to pay for this man on my telephone making his fortune peddling "higher education monies" for his "friendors" the vendors of candy bar in the sky exams.
These college franchises don't have to do much to reduce overhead, as campus free, is "frat free," and they can afford to feed a bolemic sales force, binging and purging, for potential students. And the colleges spring into business everywhere under this government fortified bulwark of serial entrapment.
Tiny strip malls, with aged wooded siding, will do--or an office building floor--many programs require nothing special in terms of a campus or equipment, or the bothersome task of housing and counseling of students. It appears the "financial counseling" takes place in a call or two, transfer student, to the loan program.
Some more specailized University types do provide a campus with smaller satellite units orbiting their home base. And there is also a trend toward all colleges to go on-line as there are benefits and costs accounted for--But what is lost in intelligent design and human interaction is "written off" as unnecessary.
Many of these colleges are Cheap to operate, "Laptop Learning" teachers can teach in their underwear from their car, and certainly no creativity required as they are following college cirriculum or template or cookie cutter, provided then certified by another member of the gang on this chain.
With that irritating "student-teacher" relationship laid to rest, there's only some paperwork for the office workers at the college who got their own certified "AA" degrees around the corner at an old TAco Bell building.
Burdened with their own student loans, these office personnel possibly get $10 an hour to make half the country richer by shuffling the paperwork of Crony created colleges spawning bags of money for middle men and end players who have a RIGGED playing field.
The government provides, does it not, the playing field? Lol All the legislation, licensing, certifications, loan approval qualifications, classifications, designations, board and directors, all of these to make sure that American's can have a chance at....(Oh YEAH BABY, a FORTUNE 500 company with Porsche and arrogance included)
Umm, an Education?
Vocational and profanely profitable, who would have thought? Oh well the student loans for "truckers licenses" and "Medical Office Assisting" got this show of a program and industry generator up and running.
It's just been taken to "higher student loan indebtedness level."
"Wanna be somebody? Not a nasty old poverty ridden, shoe dwelling, old maid--or change your useless, disabled, "made in a China shop" bullshit existence?
Come aboard "Captain Corrupto's" titanic educational ferry across the seas of anonymity, obscurity, and poverty into the world of "HIGHER VOCATION."
What a success story! I practically want to weep.
Laura Hart--The Bi-Polar American
Tuesday, January 8, 2013
From KVHD under Fire: Clear the air...
Clear the air...
Choppers, fighter planes, cargo units--even large triangular shaped "thingys" with great mufflers to help them pass silently above our heads--criss crossing trails of smoke forming grids in the sky.
Is it the "Show me" kids from China Lake or China or wherever? I don't know, but they do seem to love their toys.
"Top gun to stun gun, come in...when do we get the facts that matter?"
Yeah, that's what I said. It's my preference to use the weapons of mass communication or what we "first amendment" types might call ourselves: "verbavoires."
Maybe some prefer the second amendment, pull a gun and shoot, type of posturing? The moment you bite on that bullet, you may get gut shot with a storehouse of government gunpowder.
It appears to me the "mili vanilli tary" lip syncs to this 2nd amendment as there is an arsenal of weapons to point at its own citizenry.
Yawn, stretch--BORED!
So what--they can create jazzy jets, zippy stuff in the sky, bomb and burn and beam, blast or blare--or just control? Woo hoo!
These are the great thinkers of our time?
Something's off, and I smell a diaper. Someone has not changed the baby in a while, and the only explanation I can possibly attribute to this mess of a world, is on the disorder of a "Lord of the Flies" scenario.
Who has the conch shell?
These "scrotums with modems" have now trained the youngest generation to "run" their toys with a handset from a desk or a coffee shop; they created an army of couch potatoes too obese to run across a physical battle field.
But these children are in the other room of your house practicing to become a militarized mind on the X box as we speak.
These flights of fancy flying machines, these displays such as a territorial mockingbird, solidify my suspicion that we are dealing with the most "IMMATURE" aspects of this errant world.
So, what about a real game?
Word processor or pen or pencil?--choose your weapon. lol
Please don't bore us with a game of drones, this most certainly a show of weakness.
The reticence of the military is well known, also called "stonewalling," but it's time to get some courage and drop the real "bomb shell" known as the TRUTH.
The focus can simply be on how to agree we DO have a problem, Houston...
The problems are pervasive, on every level of this game-- the environment, the weather, the governments, and the minds and hearts of all who live this mess.
"Boring for Dollars" is I label the pyramid scam, illusory, economy, a rudimentary game of power for beginners, where exclusive groups pull the strings, vying for top of the food chain status.
It appears to me to be an uncreative force, blocking, dividing, addicting and cruelly imprisoning those within its mindset.
There are those "special" types who are not selling out to this already "sold out" crowd. They appear to be in the minority, I sadly report.
Only the powerless would need to build up a military--an overcompensation I suggest. But for what? Is the government protecting us or protecting its own interests or protecting itself?
The KRV is also now occupied with the "Army corn of in-gin ears" as they "cell" us on the idea of how we have the most dangerous "Dam" in-the-nation.
Boring for dollars systematically breeds (greeds) these paid welfare recipients of a political bent, to do its bidding. These puppets are actively being fed dollars to go forth and expand their Waste lines and lands.
We don't have an open, transparent communication on this "Dam" the "austerity is for suckers" project. There are probably as many unique reasons as there are mouths to feed.
So we passively call these transgressions of forthrightness, elder abuse or scams, "water under the bridge." Are we conditioned to "look the other way?"
We accept, are complicit with, the lowest of energies. Paralysis of the possibility, we are more, and we are better, than we have thus far experienced.
So please, with humble, yet grumble, I seek to find answers with TRUTH and COMPASSION as to why this is all necessary.
They say the room for improvement is the largest room in the world, I say the world needs to make room for improvements in its home field advantages....
Laura Hart--The Bi-Polar American
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