OMG y’all, this pandemic/quarantine/shutdown has left me gasping to find inspiration. I haven’t got to go to one gig this year to see a band I love or anything and that’s what I’m pretty much alive for. I haven’t got to get in my Jeep and just travel for hundreds of miles to another state to go see a band I love or a friend. Zero road trips. I’m alive for the arts. Music. Poetry. Drink. Freedom of choice. And I fought for these things too.
But borders are closing. Hospitals overflowing. Information disclosing. Opinions opposing. People exposing.
There’s been little to live for but alot to be said. And for the record, I am PRO MASK. I worked as an EMT medic for many years, in the hospitals, in the fields, and in combat zones. There’s not anything you’re going to say that’s going to defer my opinion from what the CDC is putting out. Or from what my training and experience has taught me. And I’m the kind of person that would gladly get back in the Army just to have the right to enforce that on you. I was an excellent soldier, and once a soldier, always a soldier. HOOAH. And there are medics that are actually returning to the government military just to help with this pandemic. Wear a mask. 😷
I have found some inspiration during this epidemic and that’s the amount of traffic and feedback I’ve been getting on my poetry and on my blog/ website. And for some reason it just inspires me to keep writing and sharing. Despite the terrible lows and hailing cries. Despite the unfollows and lost patrons. I am moving on. I go from barefoot to combat boots. I am both feminine and masculine. Soft and hard. Together and messy. Life is complicated. But I created my blog as a safe place to write. And I’ve even done monstrous things here but life goes on and I do not dwell. I’m evolving. Sometimes I turn into the monsters I am slaying. Hive mind. Even from the depths of hell, I can’t control all of me, all the time *gasp*. But I blame big Pharma and depression just as much as I do myself.
Sometimes I stop and commend myself for making it this far. For all the storms I’ve actually gone through, not just the internal ones, but the real ones. Sandstorms. Hurricanes. Unfit parents. Sexual, verbal, and physical abuse survivor. War. (I’d even throw childbirth in there and a rib tattoo, broken bones, sickness). STORMS. 🤓
I’ve got enough medals and awards from the military that I could fill an entire wall but nothing makes me happier than to see my blog hit FIFTY THOUSAND VIEWS. 50,000 visits to my little home on the web!!! 😍
I read through the WordPress FAQ some time ago to see if my own IP/visits are counted / included and THEY ARE NOT (though the do keep track of authors separately because you can have multiple authors on a single blog (which is why you can see yourself in the stats but if you go read the FAQ you will see that it clearly does not count towards your view/visit counts to your own blog!!
My blog has also been getting more follows too, the current tally is 834 blog followers and if I ever hit 1K I will squeal! I am a terrible blogger in that my depression and anxiety keeps me isolated, so I’m not social, but I put everything I have into the words I bring you. I’m genuine, I’m just emotionally unavailable. Maybe my soul is leaking from my pen and now you all have bits of me. I’m giving you all I have.
Your feedback and comments and support is a treasure surely and though I oft little share it in return, I am grateful for you. I’ll even protect you and take a bullet for you but hold your hand, no. Sometimes people ask me what my sexuality is or my nationality and I say vampirism. I walk the streets of hell alone, it is my duty. I cannot be sidetracked by lust and sins, be gone demons. I’ve had enough. Mine is tempered and sleeping this decade off because- Apophis 2029. I’m only interested in spiritual healing, positive energy, and mental growth. I’m dying. The end is painful but the environment must be peaceful, dig? I don’t want you in my foxhole. But near. Tell me of beauty and poetry. I’m entitled to die how I want. If they made assisted suicide legal, I’d be on that bandwagon in a heartbeat.
Depression is and can be TERMINAL. The methods for treating depression are barbaric. From foxholes to thorazine hazed padded rooms. Fuck you. My diary 2020. Bringing it to you live right now. This year so far, on top of this pandemic, I was nearly hospitalized without my permission, taken in the back of a cop car, to a hospital so my mental health could be evaluated before they decided if they were going to withhold me, for a minimum of one week (7 days), without my permission, without any way to escape, without my service dog, my phone, or even the clothes on my back. In fact, while I was waiting in a locked room, they removed all of my clothing and items and gave me a hospital gown. 4 hours later the doctor saw me and agreed I was fit enough to return home. Which was great because I had already pre-warned the cop that if I was separated from my dog I was about to turn into a criminal with a record… but also, recently as the shutdown was happening here in Florida, I got pulled over by three cops in 3 cop cars with their lights going for not doing a full stop at the sign. A tiny fraction of a rolling stop- 3 cops. And I nearly died of a heart-attack. And white privilege was definitely not rolling around in my head, more like fear, but it did help that I was a damsel in distress and (kind of cute but my dog is cuter), but I didn’t yell at the cops either, or give them any more reasons to come at me hostilly cuz they weren’t fucking around… anyhoo that was probably my 8th life out of 9 cat lives lived/used… my luck and time is running out. But also, lesson learned STAY HOME.
2020 has mostly been lows but the blog love has been a lifeboat, a lighthouse, and even a life jacket and I can breathe a little. There’s nothing worse than my freedom being threatened. But I’ve been responsible for it being threatened every time, my worst enemy is me.
Fuck defundung the police. How about giving back the rights to vote to voters who are back in society. Think about all the people in America who cannot vote because of the War on Drugs, marijuana is becoming legal in a lot of States, but there are still people behind bars for marijuana offenses. WRONG. FREE THE PEOPLE. FREE THE PLANT. STOP THE WAR ON DRUGS. WE NEED REFORM IN JAILS AND PRISONS. We need to give people back their right to vote!!! “But voting doesn’t make a difference” fuck you- IT DOES. Utilize your right to vote! Florida had on the ballot to give back prior criminals the right to vote and it passed and I was there voting on that issue, I voted yes, give them their rights back to vote, so luckily people who have gone to jail or prison over the War on Drugs at least in Florida now have the right to vote again, fucking use your voice, it works! And yes I know all about the NWO / New World Order Illuminati, I know they exist, but on a state-level voting helps.
Anyway, I’m not allowed to talk about politics or religion or even what kind of medications I’m allowed to put in my own body because I will literally lose followers and supporters… Someone out there right now is probably unfollowing me because I am pro mask and pro medicinal marijuana. Or pro-voter. I’ve lost followers for not being Christian enough. For vampire cosplay. For not being sexually available for their needs. For not giving them my precious energy or time. For showing my boobs. For not showing my boobs. I mean, all I have to do is wake the fuck up and I’ll lose a follower. Here, there, everywhere. It’s frustrating. It’s meant to hurt. It always does. And sometimes I even run off followers with a duststorm following behind. It’s regretful yes. I’ve even sent hatemail. UGGG. THE CROSS I CARRY. CURSED. Sometimes I know what caused the manic outbreaks. I’m just trying to get to a point in my life where I don’t react. Zen. I also get my Jeep paid off in October which will be my last car payment and that will bring me some financial freedom and I’ll be out of the financial apocalypse that I found myself in. Then I’m saving for a trip to the UK. VACA. TRAVEL. The thing I live for. MUSIC. BUSH. BANDS.
Thanks for reading my blog! For following! For liking and commenting! For re-blogging or sharing my work! For dealing with my anti-social behavior and mood swings. For forgiving me of my mistakes and still loving me when I make them because you see that I’ve put in effort to get better or change. For trying to listen and learn about depression. For allowing me to be completely transparent with you. For letting me decide things and then change my mind. For letting me experiment with who I am and what is art. For letting me share my sexuality without there being some form of sexual harassment that always follows. For letting me just be me and not having to give you anything in return (tid for tat). For liking me despite my flaws. For encouraging me to keep writing!! For reading my rhyme!!! There just aren’t many people who are into rhyming poetry or even that many rhyming poets left!! So I’m grateful for you! And I need so much space currently to write. I need the space to be a certain energy or vibe. I don’t have time or energy to piss away, I have so much left to say and so little mood or energy to do it!! Thanks for listening! THANKS FOR 50,000 VISITS TO MY BLOG. HOLY SHIT. I love you. 😍
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