Wednesday, October 8, 2014

Possible Probable and observable

oh yes, I have written some seriously outroundish or off the grid of what is acceptable.
I review my own posts and even gasp at the statements I make.
Part of this blog is to trace my own shifting paradigms and allowing for free flowing thoughts.
I've found some way to live in my world and that is to recognize the difficulty in cultivating a safe truth, observed but undefined.
Keeping my sanity organized is really easy, keeping the world control over truth is a miserable task.
so, when reading I offer you possibilities and probabilities based on my observations.
phew! What have I seen? Lol
Enjoy this blog which is intended to leap and bounce, but with only the truth as a launch pad.
I'm telling you there is an abundance to talk about.
We can laugh as I write out the last month.

What's holding me down

I've already reported that Buzzkill Lightyear has a Woody for me, as each time I get that engine of fun purring, some improbable incident occurs....oh the police don't like my dancing and driving, or in the street.
My ideas, which clearly don't follow average form, are swatted, ignored or many times plagarized.
So, I'm tired of the struggle, so I think I'll now enjoy the struggle. Lol
I know there's weird in my wiring, but I will bring on the Laura, truth in advertising.
its a mess socially to make big, fast changes, but that's what I've done.
lonely, yeah, but for my own personal growth I learn from my grip on a reality that invites my input.
earnestly I begin the quest for a bi polar American collective creative output.
and if you don't hear from me here on the blog, I'm out recruiting for the future projects and people. .

Monday, September 1, 2014

The Pet Report: Walter and Sky

Walter, the Boxer and my service dog, best friend, has survived another round of cancer. He had a second tumor over his last one. It grew so fast I could hardly make an appointment before he had a baseball hanging off his side.

It has been part of our family healing process taking place. I say family, as Walter is my partner, my side kick--we argue, we sleep in the same bed, he has his own pillow. We are ruled though by the chief of the house: The Macaw.

Walt battles cancer, I battle poverty and--oh everything, lol, and Sky has laid two unfertilized eggs.

Amazing things have happened, she has apparently instructions of how to do this: tear up a bath towel and shredded peices spread around her nest which is her car carrying cage. Lay two eggs out the same port as shoots the poop.

Lay on the eggs in such a way they don't break. (I know I would roll over on them, I couldn't do it. Probably harder than it looks.)

Keep them warm and safe*

As the asterisk indicates, there is obviously a variety of things that could be considered unsafe in the world. lol In our neck of the woods that is a broad category.

Though Walter has proven for six years he is trustworthy, shows much restraint, enduring parrot abuse for years, but is now a trespasser in his own house.

Maternal macaw has taken over our lives.

Walt and I began playing our boxing game shortly after the surgery, and we were basically told to take our rough housing outside. SKy came out of the nest, wings spread, thinking Walt and I were really fighting.

Honestly I'm surprised we weren't taken by the ear and escorted from the room.

Though there's not much chance there will be chicks, it doesn't matter, as she has grown into a mama because of this experience.

She's disappointed, but I tell her what a great mother she is to all of us. Walter and I are very much part of this change. We hear her talking to the eggs. I even hear her using some of my stuff with the egg chat at night. "love you" just about brings tears to my eyes.

But we have gleaned some new productive changes: Pooping in the potty.

I noticed she does NOT poop in her nest. Interesting that she sees to it to crap all over my stuff, house and car, but not a stain in her house. ??? Not sure how to interpret this.

So, That is when I take her from her housewife existence to the bathroom where she drops her load.

She has control of this. Now I've proved it.

I told her, "now we can live anywhere, with anyone."

If she continues and I encourage this very helpful behavior, it will change her status to welcome visitor and not poop machine.

Costs were high to get Walter surgery, and with my money maker of an occupation, I'll be put in debtors prison soon, but he and every other animal deserve proper care and pain management.

There is still no vet insurance that makes a difference, I suggested : O'Paw ma care, and maybe at least a look the way of how tough it is to care for our animals friends. Jerry Brown saw fit to take away money from animal shelters and even discount euthenasia practices which are not humane or simply compassionate.

Walter, Sky and I will be back and up sooner than later. And because of their lessons and love, I roll out of bed and roll my blogs over any thing that would not appreciate the loving nature, healing friendship, of creatures such as my two partners for a better world.

High Light these words Muther Fuckers! Not my links

I just found my blog loaded with new LINKS attached to some words in my posts.


 High light these words: FUCK YOU. And make the link to anyone who invades anyone's blog, making me or them look complicit.

Letting you know I"m going to make sure this is addressed. I apologize, do not use any of these high lighted hijacked hijinx.

Laura Hart: The OWNER

Sunday, August 17, 2014

USA: the collection agency

From the "Mental" files case:

Affixed to poverty

The majority of people on fixed incomes and minimum wage employment are the targets of new and exploitive business practices obviously promoted by the government.

Those with fixed incomes cannot escape the lack of increase regardless of the sky high price increases simply to live.

It used to be banks such as Well's Fargo, would allow an interest free advance on electronic payday accounts.

Recently, Wells Fargo stopped this practice as it certainly didn't serve them to have to help the already bleeding class of fixed and lower income.

But a new predator business looms waiting for an emergency where they will take a large fee and some interest just to get a pay check ahead.

So, banks are removing the free helpful service and putting it into the craw of those who prey upon those who have no other choices.

And within a short time, the loans begin to add up and the person is now behind in all other payments. Duh you coudn't afford it before, now with charges and interest it's a spiral down hill into the land of the debt collection industry.

We are wasting human resources, and financially torturing the disabled, retired, mentally ill- all those who are considered lucky to get anything.

They are getting it all right and people are ruined for life. Loans on cars, this is another way to get all of the valuable belongings. And to keep these people from rising above their age, sex, disability or mental capacity.


And this begins the great rise of the debt collection industry ready to jump on those who any 2nd grade math student could figure is in constant jeapordy.

Also no support for the recipients, but no protection from the government.

More Soon....

Friday, August 1, 2014

One thing never changes....

As I reflect back over a tumultuous lifetime on record, meaning I can remember or think I do anyway, I sometimes fall into this pit, rut, or nut up thinking about my current status.

Is it too hot?

Should I shower?

What will I eat?

What does that cost?

Then and as if I suddenly understand I could care less about these necessary evils, and the only thing keeping me ticking is that I feel at some point I will be able to carefully, considerately, compassionately deliver my message.

Clearly I cannot go forth and play the game of the world is right as rain, just a tough run. Bull to bologney, I will spread the truth as best I can, practicing every day.

I'm a mocking bird, and my words sting the whole hive when I hit these high notes. It's not a  matter of meaness. I regret having been mean, said a mean word, cast a bad thought. My whole core revolves around a happiness, improvement, and an ideal of hold firm to truth.

Problem is that language is one of the shackles. This verbal intent on my part is only going to scatter fire and hoping open hearts have room for some more of the pieces.

The language and the depth, ambiguity, are programs for living. And dying. And torturing, tormenting...but also tickling, laughing, owning, choosing, creating could be written.

Without a clear communication it would be quite unlikely we could become one tribe of creative generators, making this ghastly gamey shamebulls, into a new original vantage point, may take patience and understanding.

I had anger. Human hissing, foaming anger. Cruelty, is unpleasant in any form. I don't look away. I can't look away. But I have the same weapons and could employ them too. Never changes that I realize I am not going to nor do I forget the times I did use it.

I have so many vantage points that clearly I see every but what is under my own nose.

I'm also a diligent word warrior, or as I have described "Verbavoire." I don't have many average characteristics, I don't clean, or do windows, and I never look down on those who are down.

But My message is that I care to communicate and continue challenging those who take it less than seriously that there is a change on the herverizon. Many of us out here are charging up our souped up communications and the revving is causing some stir.

I note a fearful sense in and around me, but that is what happens when I fear what is possible or even probable. " A force that created a prison for me." And on the inside and out. Not clever, cool, or respectable, but a negative force, holding back it's power mongering.

Others display their pay check to actors union income, dual and more, but I do suffer to offer real critical information on this circus of the anti-matter. It hurts, it's a conditioned, amnesiatic lie machine on every level.

Sad, as I have so many better ideas, and meet people all the time beaming with potentials and have yet to bring it forward.

Where's the technology? Where's the fun? Where's the love?

Who de-created everything?

More questions than answers. And stomach discomfort because of the gaps.

My current "status" is "introspective." I want to know what is ticking me off and making me tick.

And making me

But one thing never changes.................No unexamined life is worth living-Socrates

Tuesday, July 29, 2014

I didn't know I could moon dance and other things....

I've decided to do a long historical, and nightmarish run thru of my last two plus years, but I realize it started for me from the beginning.

I never had a good singing voice, nor could I dance to any rhythm but that of drunken piano players. Suddenly I have latent talents that I find fun and interesting.

As I have described, my time in the Kern River Valley has  now been spent being picked up by local law enforcement and taken to jail. Doesn't matter, the intoxication, I was put in over night for speaking with an English accent.

Cheers! as we know this can be dangerous to the community. It may inflict a certain unknown and incorrection inflection into speech. Others may be come concerned if you cannot identify where that accent originates from.

So, it is, the life of an idiot bi polar American.

I came here because, as a do gooder, I thought I could help build a community thru the communication tool of journalism.

In 2006, I found out people in the local hospital were lying to me in articles and right out there on the front page of our local Sun. I guess I could not even imagine doing it, and gave them more credit than they had do, but it was on my part a simple tool to help them get info to their customers.

They used that good will and almost had a 12 million dollar bond. It was my word they used to purchase that trust and in the end, I found a sad, sick, healthcare system right under the noses of all who ran it and used it.

Elder abuse kept me awake at night as I found I was unable to stop it or even identify it. I guess I could  not understand such cruelty so therefore did not see it.

But at this point in time, I want to see me, my track record and head to the task of writing my story,"Unacceptable behavior."

It appears honest intentions are not allowed in this world. In fact, as I have skimmed over, trust and compassion are a real slight frosting on the shit cake this world stands for.

Now is a time I have nothing but a cracked heart, eager even for hope that there is a decent soul left on this plane.

I"ll contine to turn this language on it's side until it rolls some better numbers and gathers better members. Humans have come so far as to hold me to the most oppressive situation, but I don't hold too long.

Really we as a humanity, and or false front, have created wonderful homes that use staples and paper to put together: a mobile home. Wow. We could use some of our patent office leftovers. What is next a contractors license to put together spit and staple homes for the nobodies, just to get them off the street.

More truth. That is if the police leave me on a keyboard long enough to tell a balanced story. I'll just moon dance right to the love good surprises.


Sunday, May 18, 2014

Testing my own worth:The Bi-polar American

I guess it's been as far back or projected forward in my future plans, a glitch. That is that I don't seem to care much for myself. I'd rather not have to choose as there doesn't seem to be anything listed that I want.

There are core issues, what is me after losing all my belongings my house, my voting rights, my labels that appeared timeless, that I am sorting thru with a heavy heart.

Missing are the people I love so much, they are my top priority. But the only way is thru the wall into me. Into loving me, liking me.

It all seemed so useless, I have been told repeatedly that I have failed on some or another level. Nothing is quite right about me according to the world looking in at me. I jump the hoops and still don't make the mark.

Thirty years I didn't do drugs as I saw people become addicted and sad cases, so I avoided it. Then I try it and I'm labeled a felon now because I tried to see it for what it was.

It was not a problem I get bored with everything, but it was a choice to try it.

Judging myself was a full time job, as I never manage to get it where others see I should go. I have felt blind all my life, deaf to the call, but wild with hope that there would be better. Now I'm the one  who has to make me better.

How to do this is a true search for my own meaning here. I don't get it. But I'm looking for it. Me. I see that I really enjoy sharing with others tales of stupidity, success, the experiences. Writing or story telling would certainly be my bent.

Bards would tell their stories, histories, myths roaming from town to town. A renewal of this sort of personal sharing is part of what I yearn for.

I realize I haven't been able to even get my first podcast going...WTF? I have been waiting years to get the technology, but it was not available in Weldon, the former home of my former house. 

Maybe a new way, it's a new day. I'm creating the best I can, and outside of this, is more...

There are people who are afraid I may say something or do something out of the ordinary.


But that is what I do. It's time for break in the fast of those who choose to avoid those of us who are different and damn good reason. 

What am I worth, just money or what makes me a value? My humor in the face of fierce opposition to my fun and chocolate side. Laughter really does heal me.

But it's time to shore up to the money side of value as they are all included. Not much left, but I have untapped resources and talents.

First up though  is to put some dinner on the plates and tend to the pets.

More on my worth....

Wednesday, May 14, 2014

Squatters and vandals...


It's been a while since I felt my fingers on a key board. It's been even longer since I have had a computer that has not been stolen from me.

Update is that I am out of the car style living, now into my completely destroyed home, where my parrot SKy and I live in squalor.

The team of Macaws and effects have been a moto-roost for a couple months now. Sky nutted up at the end, she's lonely. She has such good drug detecting qualities she could be used at an airport and I'm sure they would give her a cut. lol

Walter, Dukeskywalter, will hopefully be in our stead tomorrow. Then the three amigos will head toward the coast as the house is up for sale and claims to insurance are in order. Our next step I'm hoping for some times with good people, a new computer, and a room in a comfortable, creativity inspiring home.

I"m sure whatever needs to happen will be next. In the mean time, I keep going, Sky is resting her weary mobile bird head, and I go get our Boxer buddy from the desert.

More as the team returns together looking for another home on the coast with friends.

Tuesday, April 8, 2014

Awakening the bi polar behind the walls

I've been describing the separation that continues to keep good people apart and in errant miscommunication. Constantly acting and jumping thru hoops of financial  ill design.

I"ve been tracking and logging my record of truth, whether it makes me look good or not, it's what has to be for me to carry on. I need to know where I am on the map before I can get to a destination.

For the last two months I have trusted others who have ripped off my possessions, stolen my house away, ruined my reputation, tampered with  my car, and basically set me up to be taken to jail by the Sheriff's department.

My car windows broken, car towed away, mace sprayed in my face, beaten up by law enforcement, but set upon standing again to walk the walk I have spoken of: Truth erring on the side of compassion leading to a free way to our real inheritance.

But I am back again to report I have lived in my car, seen the terrible nature of living in poverty, but still say it is the system, not this sister who only wishes to embrace a common wealth for us all.

To do this, I have looked at the language and found it is just more shackles and tricks. My eyes and ears are rigged by something to elude the things you others take for granted that you actually see and hear. It is a sensory shackle that has to be constantly manually corrected by me.

Anger almost overtook me, but I guarantee my real core is not seething it is breathing in more love and light, mixing it up so that I can be more effective. And less used by the angry torrents, more so blending them into my softness which is also at the core of my being.

I have felt a code and a song, and talents I never even considered I had. Always told I was wrong, or no to anything that questioned the common held beliefs, I am here on this day to say NO to those who have hidden their cruelty, torture, and cowardice.

Continue to beat a path to the front door, and want it opened to be truly free.

My truth only helps me understand more about what is happening. I will continue to share on facebook and the google community. And this blog is open to the public.

TAke care and would love to publish sincere submissions on this blog. I have books, "the Chronicles of the bipolar reporter, and "unacceptable behavior" to finish writing and publish so that anyone has access to the truly absurd world around us. And within some of us.

More to follow....

Tuesday, March 18, 2014

REmembering The Will and the way:sick degrees of separation

Wehn I was about 11, my sister and I were wating on my parents to select a Christmas tree. We chose to stand in front of some horses in a corral, and possibly pet these creatures.

My sister slipped away to pick some flowers while I whole heartedly went up to the fence to call these horses to come over to me. I grabbed the fence with both hands, and suddenly had my self stuck on an electric wire.

I was aware that I was sizzling with this power, but my grip was on this grid and my muscles were frozen out of my control. I seemed to suddenly have 360 degree vision, I could see my sister a few yards away, back turned. And the horses were backing away too.

I tried to remember the safety classes, taught to stay away from live wires, but it served no purpose. I lost track of time, my fear, just a roadmap of ideas of how to end my saddled soap opera of feeling caught and helpless.

Within a few replays, I gave up all the advice and warnings I had on record and went for full throttle will power. I focused my own laser tag on the right hand holding a hot line of separation. i kept that open communication with my limb, commanding it to release. Actually, the words I screamed silently to my body was "LET GO."

I urged the hand to pull off as I owned my fisticuff linked to the power usurpers linr deliniation. There was some focus pocus but I won. Suddenly I was airborne backward onto the ground, free of charge.

I got really angry, at both the horses and my sister for not aiding my helpless condition. Or I assumed helpless. But really I had the master switch and I only needed to know how to turn off the surge protecting the urge to give up to the forces between me and these horses.

Today I know I should be angry at the fence poster child for keeping kids from ponies and Fonies are internally and eternally a habitual response.

Who knows how many times I was surging in the control of the keeper of separations, distancing us from our own power.

Will it to be....And It will be.

Saturday, March 15, 2014

Don't die or just lie in the ground....

Maybe for the last time, but I'm out of jail, on the way to do nothing good I'm sure. LOL

On probation for 3 years in Kern County because I had my car sabotaged,  money stolen, all my belongings gone to sad sacks of shit who play for themselves.

It's going to get even worse for the badly played,. I"m going to relax for a week, then be bored, but know that I care about all of you. I've written these blogs: KVHD under FIRE, Your Government your problem: an owners manual, and The bipolar American, for all of us.

REad it or not, but I've had enough being the last to know, the first to see, the only one pointing out the flaws in all of this.

I forgive the creator of this horror called life, but I can't go along for the not so thrill ride.

You can at any time opt out and I suggest you should. If your driving a new car, sitting in a house, with heat or cool, then your a sell out. IF you think this helps protect your family, surprises await your perilous conditions.

I'm sorry, I only have what I have which is me? What is me? A love, a sensitive caring soul who would never hurt for the sake of hurting. I will die again and again, but if you don't notice it, what's the point. I've been dead before and you think it's the end?

Get ready to see the dead walk back into their jobs their homes, the hospitals, the nursing homes, they are here and ready for a repeat performance of the worst creation ever experienced.

If you n eed a picker upper, think of me, I'm always a friend to those with heart and soul. And my house is not a home, my home is near and I will welcome all who can handle the truth.

Let there be love and light days to come, right ways to go, and good folks to feel.

Love to all. Laura

Monday, March 10, 2014

What does an american expect when being put in Jail? A phone call. After 3 weeks, day of court, mississing my family, my court appointed attorney gave me that call.
You don't expect to get your rights. TAken a face full of mace, fire without the melting, but equally hot but not easy to get out.
Can't panhandle in Kern County as I was only asking for help.
Got trespassing, delaying an officer, and apparently a bag full of drugs in my pant pocket. that gets you a 10K bail.
There are people so harassed in there, and the torture was wonderful.
But I endured and plead out to these charges, but now I can't vote. I vote to stop the vote without all who have not enough money to really get legal help. Lots of women trying to get back to their children. Cages are not for bi polar americans, or dogs or cats and birds need to fly.
Stay safe as the side of law enforcement wants to keep their jobs.
Borrowing a pain pill from a neighbor can cost you $10,000 in bonds.
Heads up, and I'll be trying to get to my animals ASAP as no one knew where I was or what to do.
Americans, we are the TERRORISTS and they have our kids.
Ltoday, bail out the system, call them, keep this show of support started. AS I am predicting they will try to bring me in again too.
Aunt Laura

Sunday, February 9, 2014

Sick Degrees of Separation....Part one

As I get ready to exit my homeless car lifestyle, wipe off the marker and make a new start of it, I'm reminded that I must overcome the sick degrees of separation to get my message heard.

Yes, you may think you've heard it all, but trust me, you have not.

Everything a wall, is not an idea unfamiliar to those who read this blog. There are two other blogs which will continue as a spillway of information along with a series of short but robust thoughts on our current condition, and "Cuntditioning."

My first foray into street fighting writing, KVHD Under Fire, the perky and original blog dedicated to the game of old age pyramid scam bucks and life and torture itself. Elder abuse and murder. Brought to you by the "nobody cares" not Obama, certainly not California Governor, Jerry Brown--community as there are discounts for being old and not advantages.

Yes, I'm over 50 but just around the mountain but not over a hill full of holes in it's story.

GEneratioN Gaps:

We can hardly remember or understand each other, as we have a language full of shackles, and generations of those who claim not to understand each others motivations and intentions. There is arrogance, Fear, and hopelessness, to trek thru to get to the other side.

Simply put we are sick from trying to communicate.

When I write, I write with my intended message. The reader, the reciever, has a whole list of reasons not to hear my hard, dark messages, couched in humor. And there is not much, except for repeated, rephrased, louder, clearer, writing that I can do to acheive a re pore with my friends, family and fellow prison mates.

But add a generation, a whole group of those who have lived and breathed rules, regulations, ideas of their formation, and you have a real challenge.

I'm getting ready to challenge it all, and my message is patience. lol

For me, this is big. But I truly care about what I am attempting to transmit and it is worth my effort.


Hope so.

Aunt Laura

Thursday, January 16, 2014

The newest Mascot: God B lessed America

Aunt Laura to Uncle Sam: It's time....
It is time to start thinking what it truly means to wear the stripes and stars. I am the free thinker only if I give up thinking. I am the model if I intend to walk the talk of the cock of the walk.

So, to those who truly have given up everything to play a game of "fake economy" I genuinely refer to as "Boring for dollars the Pyramid scam" I am in the game too. I have a job, it's being the kind Aunt to those who have been ripped off and apart trying to manage a shell game whose board is slanted to the side of those with no interest in anything but themselves.

No way, I am interested in playing for us all. I don't want for needing, but have recently been taken for every item I ever "thought" I owned. I own nothing on a dicey gamble called life. But found myself living in my car with the weary remnants.

We have been kicked in the teeth, our memories of a good dream, a good life, all haunting us now.

There are books to be written, and I'm continuing to write my fair share.

It's now time for Uncle Sam to meet and marry his new mail order Bride: Aunt Laura.

More to follow....