Categories
Charleston, West Virginia My Life Story On My Own Writings

Forever Dogs

I hadn’t seen my dogs for almost 2 weeks because people were telling me it was too dangerous and I could get killed.

But one day I couldn’t take it any longer. As a single person I have friends, but its mental & airy. You miss the vegetable acceptance you can get through family. But Slippers & Patton are more than family. They are forever friends. Missing them was this pain in my heart that wouldn’t go away. I felt like they were calling me.

I’ll never forget the crazy smiles on their faces when I came through the door. We were all barking and crying and running around in circles trying to bite each other. Then James- who had not seemed to be there- called the cops but I didn’t even care. We were outside of time.

I went outside to talk to the police. They said I wasn’t in trouble. I wasn’t breaking the law since it is my house, my dogs and only James has a no contact order on him. But they said they didn’t want to leave me there just in case anything happened so they waited outside to give me 5 more minutes with my dogs & then told James to tell me a next time when I could visit them.

That was today and I just got back from 2 hours of seeing them. First we rejoiced, then we sang our favorite songs- Stand by Me, Fur Angel, Dog Went a Courtin’ & more. Then we had a snack. Then we lounged and stared into space. It was great to vegitate together. It is hard to be a vegetable in solitude. Plus they make me cry with their faithfulness.

Mushrooms were growing in the front yard of the house I used to share with Slippers and Patton. What does this mean?

I don’t place dogs above humans but I don’t place humans above dogs either. They seem very much alike except in how they dress. People keep telling me to get a new dog, but the thing is I have zero interest in dogs as a species. I have an interest in two specific people- Slippers and Patton.

Scorpio is a water sign, which means love and emotion. It is a black 8 turned on its side whose goal is to dig the deepest hole possible in one spot in order to create bonds of love so strong they survive the threshhold of death. Death is the test of love and everything really. Only that which is real survives.

So I’m not a let go and move on type of person. I don’t mind suffering for something which has value. But I would rather not invest in something which death will hack apart. Only those things you would suffer, bleed and die for really matter in the end because those are the only things that carry forward. That is my philosophy anyway. I believe there is an eternal world where treasure accrues. A relationship that withstands the tests of hell becomes immortal. Of course, this willingness to accept pain can sometimes backfire and make you hang on to the wrong things. But I do want my relationships with Slippers and Patton to make it to the Forever World. They are such special friends to me.

Lettuces forever.

Which brings me to another issue…. for a while there I felt I was finding a groove. Surviving as a poor person was seeming not only doable, but magical. Cleaning my clothes in a bucket, picking lettuces from the Lettuce Patch for the Poor, accepting charity where offered… it felt like I’d stepped into a fairy tale. But when I shared my enthusiasm for poverty on Facebook people started throwing all kinds of fear and anger at my head, calling me desperate for attention, playing at being poor, condescending to actual poor people while also abusing all humanity by being a lazy slob who needed a job. They also said they’d seen me make soldiers cry with their own eyes. On purpose.

Normally I don’t mind retard attacks, but now that I have no husband it feels more unnerving than it used to. There is no one to take my side against a mob* nor do I feel as willing to lose the support of random acquaintances.

The get a job thing bothers me especially, because I do have a job. In fact I care so much about this job that I’m willing to sacrifice wealth, respect and safety for it because it feels like a divine calling.

I don’t relate to the view where your success as an artist is based on the number of humans who know your creations. What if you only had an impact on one human? What if that human was your self? There is no way to measure how impacts play out over the course of time. What is more impactful- a song known only to Noah that he hummed on the ark for his animals- or the most popular song on earth right before everyone drowned in a flood? You can’t say really.

And beyond that, I feel art changes the world even if no one at all hears it, because it carves new spaces in the world of imagination. The realm that precedes that which is possible on earth. Success is the extent to which you can open the portals you are trying to open and build the magical kingdoms you are trying to build.

At first I just wanted to write songs, but now it is important to me to write the specific songs that bore the hole I am trying to bore. I have a feel of the sort of energy I want to usher into this plane. Muses come and go but there is a muse behind them who is constant.

And if my muse guides me to beg for quarters why not? People got so angry at me for bringing up begging on facebook but I think there is something beautiful about it. Someone holding up a cup, giving you the opportunity to place a coin inside? Who knows what good could come from that? And what is the danger in a coin moving from one place to another?

The problem is these other people’s views on life & their horrible judgments of my character really threw me off my own wavelength to where I couldn’t write songs or anything. As though I was a monster for not devoting my life to a 401k plan. But it’s hard for me to see how a life where you aren’t following your own spirit is even a life to begin with.

For me there is no choice. Even if I try to do what others want I won’t. I just have to do what I’m going to do anyway and hope for the best.

“Lettuces For The Poor” Lettuce Patch. If you take a solemn vow to be truly poor then you can take a lettuce of your choice.

Also, I have been on dates. Sweet men and delicious food.

Also, playing gigs for dollar bills and delicious food. I love it how people throw money into a hat or a guitar case. That is what started me thinking how beautiful it could be to beg with a metal cup. In between music, men, EBT & lettuce patches I am eating better now as a poor person than I ever did as a married lady of dignity and grace.

Also, someone I like asked me if I wanted to be friends with benefits. What does this mean? It sounds like such a cosmopolitan offer. My lesbians have assured me that pain this way lies. Then one lesbo called me on the sly to say she thinks its a great idea because relationships suck.

Also, I have a side hustle working as a secretary for one of my heroes, an herbalist. Years ago, I made a list of 10 people on earth I would like to meet. The other 9 were jackasses but this one has been a benefactor to me and changed my life. To receive help from someone you admire is a sweet feeling.

Also, it used to shock me how the black people on my street would walk down the sidewalk dancing and singing out loud. Now I do that too.

Also, I like the musicians I meet. I no longer hate people who play guitars. I guess I just hated the musician in myself because I grew up in a world where musicians had AIDS. But I’ve really come to cherish their freewheeling ways and the time we spend together. I love being able to ask people if they would prefer to eat a shit filled dick or have their own dick stapled to the wall & they will just consider the question and answer it rather than making me feel like I’m some kind of freak. I like being around people who are stoned. In their own way they are kindred spirits.

It’s almost like I’m becoming a free spirit.

Charleston West Virginia where I live.
Patton is glad I’m back. I wish you could have seen his smile a couple days ago when he saw me for the first time. He looked insane.
Slippers my goldie angel.

* Btw…….. I said I feared no one would defend me from mobs now that I’m a single lady but that didn’t turn out to be true. My lesbians came to my defense just as they have before. Not just intercepting stones, but hurling them back. From a Scorpio perspective, nothing means more than a friend who will fight for you. This made me cry as well. I hope every female finds some serial killettes to have her back.

We normally start song time with Stand By Me, a song that was written by a dog for a dog.

Categories
Charleston, West Virginia men Politics Writings

A Black 8 Disclaimer

I see life as a collection of diverse and frequently opposing forces- elements, virtues, qualities etc- that must remain in a workable balance. All forces can be used for good or evil.

So please keep in mind, when I am writing about current events, whatever side I appear to stand on is relative to present day threats and imbalances, as I perceive them. If there is a drought, I want rain. When people are blobs, I want war. When everything turns to yellow, I want illegal drugs. When people are drowning in purple, I want to ban drugs. All of my stances are *relative*, so ten years from now I will likely be on a different side of the same issue. I don’t have a specific vision for what our society should look like, but I do feel it keenly when things have gotten out of whack.

I believe the stars in the sky are literally Virtues. There are a zillion virtues humans can attach to and many of these are diametrically opposed to one another. Therefore, it becomes about aligning with the virtues which lead you towards your peculiar destiny. Or sometimes relating to a virtue only temporarily, because it can guide you out of a problem you are facing. Following a virtue will guide our lives in a specific direction, just as the stars in the sky do.

Being a black 8 means that I believe all virtues are inherently equal, but only specific virtues will be helpful to a specific person or situation. Therefore I don’t judge things by whether they match a specific ideal, but by whether or not they feel right or else give you a darkened backwards spin in your stomach. Generally, I don’t like men in dresses for example, but sometimes I do. Generally, I don’t think people should consult astrologers, but sometimes they should. Right & wrong is about aligning with an underlying true nature which is infinitely variable in the forms it can take.

So right now I promote virtues like patriotism, hard work, self reliance, masculinity etc because it feels as though they are needed. We are overdosing on empathy, introspection, sensitivity and self-care to the point that they have become toxic and are poisoning people. But they aren’t inherently bad. Personally, I am more introspective than patriotic because that relates to my specific life purpose. Since I have an active use for the energy of introspection, it isn’t toxic to me.

But to suggest that everyone needs to spend time journaling is just icky. *IF* any virtues are to be overemphasized, they should be the virtues related to survival- hard work, responsibility, common sense etc. Because without enough of these root level virtues, everything else becomes irrelevant.

And it is disturbing that these foundational virtues are the very ones under attack. As someone who works in non-practical realms I feel a sense of gratitude & debt towards those who do practical things. Because without them I wouldn’t exist. When musicians search for flaws in the way lumberjacks think as an excuse for attacking them, it is so wrong. The impractical should never disdain the practical and pretend to be its superior. Nor is it reasonable to think root level people will tolerate this forever. Musicians need lumberjacks more than lumberjacks need musicians & it is important to never forget this.

Of course, some musicians find my views on this offensive. Usually male musicians. I don’t know why. But to me, it isn’t a negative to need someone more than they need you. Why is that wrong? It’s just the way life is.


Categories
Dusty Stables Los Angeles Music & Songs

Dusty Stables

 

self-portrait in overalls

This is the first song I ever wrote. Well, actually, it is the second song, but the first song is called The Mailman and possibly too perverted to share.

I was a painter living in Los Angeles when I got the feeling it was time for me to do something new, although I wasn’t entirely sure what. The best way to figure out, I decided, would be to spend 5 whole days being drunk. Which was a little bit challenging since the combination of alcohol and sunshine has always made me queasy and L.A. is a very sunny place. It also meant I would have to navigate the city on drunk feet for a few days.

But luckily, it only took a couple of days for the answer to arrive in a flash of certainty- I was going to be a musician! I had always known I was going to become a musician SOMEDAY. In fact, I had already bought myself a little $30 guitar so I would be ready when the time came.

 

Download MP3: Dusty Stables