Category: Charleston, West Virginia

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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 My Life Story On My Own Writings

Magistrates, Felt & Crack Hos

I lie in bed at night with the lights on not wanting to shut my eyes. Cause when I shut them I see that James is angry at me, really angry and that makes me scareder. I wish there was something I could do to change it but there isn’t.

And when I close my eyes I feel how heartbroken I am about my dogs. I want to see them so badly it’s unbearable. But if I start crying I’ll have to sit up to keep from eating snot so it’s best to just lie down with eyes open.


On the bottle my middle initial is K but I may change it to Nunki, the second brightest star in Sagittarius. Nunki means Open Seas and brings the gifts of blue and communication.

A bossy friend told me of a poor person’s clinic near me where I should go for fear medication so I can sleep. I went there. In the waiting room a man was scratching himself while mumbling about killing people. His voice got louder as he groaned about being burned at the stake. Finally he was just shouting “Steak! Steak!” I started to freak out so texted “Help me!” to a friend then in a girly voice the man said “Help me!” Once I realized he could read my mind I relaxed.

The clinic gave me an official looking bottle of pills in a white paper bag for absolutely free. I had just walked in off the street with no insurance or anything. But they said if I come back I will have to give them blood. A price I won’t pay. I would rather pay in money. The pills they gave me dried out my mouth anyway.

James had his hearing. He pled guilty and was sentenced to one year of parole. This meant I didn’t have to testify but the trial was still traumatic because I don’t like seeing James in trouble. And I don’t like knowing he will be mad at me and potentially punish me.

My lawyer recused himself on the day of the trial for which I had prepaid him. He said he had to because he had been telling the magistrate that I would plead the 5th in order to not incriminate myself. Basically he implied I was lying. He did this because I wanted him to help me keep James out of trouble & also to keep me from having to testify. However, I had made it clear to my lawyer- I thought- that I wasn’t lying and I didn’t want to be portrayed as such. So this was unnerving & left me with no one to look out for my interests or explain what was going on.

I had also hired James’s lawyer to protect James. Like a damn fool apparently. Before he was hired I asked if he would be defending James by throwing me over a bus. I wanted to protect James but didn’t want to be sacrificed. He said “Good heavens! Of course not! That’s not how it’s done!” But it appeared he lied. There was something about the way he treated me that scared me on a deep level. James has been telling my friends that he & his lawyer are now going to sue me for abuse. I don’t know what kind of abuse but I guess I’ll find out.

But Monday I was not on trial. It was the state vs James. After James was sentenced however, the magistrate- at the urging of James’s lawyer who we will call Shitindick- said I wasn’t allowed to go into my house to get my possessions or see my pets. He said if I did I would go to prison. I started crying hysterically. I had already been told that nothing could happen to me at a trial that was for James so this was confusing. Technically I didn’t have to even be there.

So the next day I returned to the magistrate’s office to seek clarity. Everyone in the magistrates office assured me the magistrate could not legally ban a witness from seeing her dogs or accessing her own possessions. They looked me up in their system but there were no orders against me. They said it just couldn’t happen without a hearing or a petition against me being filed, none of which had taken place. They had no idea why the magistrate would have said that.

So I went to talk to the magistrate himself. I said I didn’t understand the legal basis of him telling me I would go to prison for collecting my things or seeing my dogs when there had been no hearing for me. I had not committed crimes, been offered legal representation or had anything filed against me. I told him his office had looked me up on the computers & assured me no conditions such as these were in place. They said it was impossible to punish the victim in a trial, only the person on trial can be punished.

He didn’t answer my question but just started talking about how the courts had bent over backwards for me (referring to when they banished James from the home while I was crying hysterically & begging them not to.) He kept saying “You ALLEGE these things against your husband” as though I was some conniving cunt trying to get James in trouble when he knew I’d been attempting to get the case dropped for months. He said “You’re not dumb, you ran for office.” as though dumbness was a prerequisite for getting head slammed.

“You had you chance to call 911 when James came back to the house.” he said. True, but how did that magically turn him into a monarch who can issue commands with no legal basis?

It’s obvious a crack ho lives here. I’m trying Mommy but it’s not easy!

On other notes, it’s not that easy to function at the moment. I hope this is just a phase but my beautiful apartment is turning into a crack den. On the plus side, I’m doing an okay job of learning poor people secrets. It’s not even so much about getting by with less, which I’ve done for years. It’s more about saying yes to free stuff and yes to other humans helping you. Being a mooch was always my greatest fear so being poor is good in some respects since it forces you to receive stuff.

Where I come from people offer you stuff, but you are supposed to refuse. “Oh please, let me run out in this blizzard to get you fresh bagels for breakfast!” “Oh no, please don’t! I’m on a diet anyway!” “You on a diet? Nonsense! I insist.” “No really, I couldn’t.” This goes on for a few minutes as a charming display of politeness & consideration.

So when someone makes me an offer now, like “Would you like this bagel?” I don’t know how to respond. Are they actually wanting to give me a bagel or are they wanting me to refuse it? I’ve been trying to say yes and see what happens but it is unnerving. If you said yes where I’m from you would be a social leper. But bagels are so tempting to the poor.

A person gave me this guitar. I said yes. Then laid it down on a dirty mattress with no sheets, crack ho style.
Every day I check my tongue. So long as it’s still a perfect triangle I know my spirit is intact.
Categories
Blue, Black, Silver, Water, Moons, Death & Ghosts Charleston, West Virginia Music & Songs On My Own Sky Blue, Ether, Flags, and Fairies

The Stream

Well you know… I watch the way that you flow.
Moving around in a circle to pull at your beard
with the moon in her light.

Then you sit. Pull out a new cigarette.
Fire in your hand then you stand and you say that the
time got away so good night.

Then you go. Why?
I want to crumple by your side.
Follow you down to the stream where you go
when you go to just be there alone.
Are we home?

Through a screen…. lost in your own world of green.
I want to know what you mean when you say that you can’t
find a way to pull through.

Turn your eyes. So you won’t look at one little lie?
Running away like the words that I say were the
problem and nothing’s on you.

Then you go. Why?
I want to crumple by your side.
Follow you down to the stream where you go
when you go just to be there alone.
Are we home?

The StreamDownload

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

A Life for Julien

Everyone said leave James so you can have a life. What is a life? I thought I had one to begin with.

I don’t know what I think of my life so far. Right now I am delusional because I can’t sleep at night. I don’t know why. I don’t like shutting my eyes so I try sleeping with the lights on. I wake up a few hours later & want to see what is going on in the world.

Being single is fun. Because you can do what you want. People always said “Being single is fun because you can do what you want.” That always seemed dumb. I liked what I did when I was married. Writing songs, baking muffins. I didn’t feel I was suppressing a desire to suck two dicks at once.

But I can’t deny that something has changed because I am having a lot more fun even doing the same things I used to do. I feel less inhibited. I don’t mean in terms of men or flirting. I just feel more free to be a dumbass.

There have been so many moments of paradise. Performing music is paradise. Writing songs is paradise. Drinking an alcoholic beverage, talking to a person….

I was playing in an antiques store & there was this door that opened over and over making a chime sound. The chime sound mixing with the music was paradise. I’m playing with a bass player named Bill. The bass mixing with the melody is paradise.

I have a weekly gig at an Indian restaurant. The music mixing with images of Hindu gods is paradise. Getting paid in food and carrying my box of food home is paradise. I love playing for tips and I love playing for dinner.

I went to an open mic where someone was playing keyboard in the most elaborate fashion. The chorus was

We’re not dumb. We’re just as smart as you.
We’re West Virginians. And we’re humans too.

The audience was singing this in unison. The keyboard was going wild. Someone threw a bottle through the air and it missed the trash. Bliss overtook me and I threw a bottle too hitting Bill in the head. Absolute paradise.

These paradise moments keep stacking up to where I almost feel I’ll lose control.

There is a flip side tho…. I am struggling more than expected to run a tight & crisp ship.

For starters I don’t know what to eat. I stocked up my pantry with boxes of macaroni and tuna fish, not foods I especially like. But even cooking macaroni is too much work when you don’t have a dishwasher. I don’t feel excessively grounded. I always felt it was James who kept me down to earth.

I was single once before for about 6 months & I really started to go off the deep end. I was nailing bath towels to my wall to use as telephones. If I managed to get 5 dollars, I’d buy a pool noodle. I wasn’t delusional… it’s hard to explain but I was very aware of whether or not contacting people via bathtowel actually worked. But imagination & magical thinking took over 90% of my brain. I was writing songs constantly. I performed all the time. I painted. Did nonstop magical experiments. Then for dinner I would smash a can of green beans open with a hammer.

So when I feel spaced out and start walking in circles, I worry a little what the future holds. I hope that staying connected to other people will keep my feet on the ground.


****

Now some pics…

A mermaid created by Vulgaris & a box of tea from Avulva who wants me to suck a bag of dicks this summer. Will I? Probably not because I am superstitious about men using their penises as straws to suck out the life force. Not to mention that I can’t afford STDS when my goal is to live off $2,400 a year.

People have been sending me things to hang on my wall which means so much to me. I can’t say I feel that alone. The problem is, many of the things require nails to hang and the landlord said no holes. I bought a pack of command strips but the instructions were so complex I gave up.

Tuna fish, macaroni, tuna fish, macaroni. Together for every meal. Food is mathematics. And handwashing dishes is worse than expected.

I’m not happy with this situation because food fills in the bass notes of our emotions and I want the full range. I like people who eat. I like people who cook. I don’t like people who spend years living off candy like I always do.

Washing clothes in a garbage can. There are no laundry machines where I live or even in the neighborhood so this is my best idea.

Fresh from the garbage can, clothes hang to dry. I hope they don’t get wrinkled. It’s my first time trying this.

The jungle creeps into my kitchen. Music is a source of bliss but it needs a counterforce to keep it in check. I don’t know if I’ll be able to supply that force for myself.

A candle. I always keep one candle burning somewhere with a secret wish attached.

Categories
Charleston, West Virginia Music & Songs On My Own Red, Soldiers, & Fire

Easy

One. Making his way cross the floor
The second don’t come anymore
Cause they only come when it’s easy easy.

Red lightning that flash in his eyes
Holding my face in a vise
This is the game that will please me please me.

Oh no lemme go I’ve been thinking about this so
Something is not right although
I love you so much beyond reason reason.

Haha funny bitch do you think that I need your lies?
Lying bitch now what words will you say this time?
After I put my dick on the line just to please you please you.

Cards cards on the table- no way
That’s not the game that they play
They only stay when it’s easy, easy.

Walk pacing around on the floor
Did you dream anything more?
More than the lessons they teach me teach me.

Oh no lemme go I’ve been thinking about this so
Something is not right although
I want you to love me and keep me keep me.

Ho ho gaming bitch do you think that I need you now?
Do you think you can turn this around some how?
I could jerk it right now to the thought of you bleeding bleeding.

Blood. One little drop just for you.
That was the first time you knew
This was a game that was easy easy.

Sigh. All of the things that you say
Holding my mind in a sway
All of the lessons you teach me teach me.

Oh no lemme go I’ve been thinking about this so
Something is not right although
When I close my eyes then it’s reeling reeling

And still I stay cause I want you to keep me from harm
Wrapped up like a fly in your beautiful arms
Drip drop from your mouth everything that you’re feeling feeling.

Swallow. Don’t snitch.
Shut your cunt mouth you dumb fucking bitch.
Are there voices do you hear their cries?
Answer me but only when I tell you that it’s time.

EasyDownload
Categories
Blue, Black, Silver, Water, Moons, Death & Ghosts Charleston, West Virginia Music & Songs On My Own Uncategorized

The Original Lie

Waves of grey, waves of light.
Don’t fall now- you know you have to
Make it through just one more night.

But I …. know she comes again
I can smell the stinking smell of
Unwashed hair with sin.

Oh men, they need a place to lay the evil that’s inside.
But please girl don’t you be that place,
Just find a way to run and hide!

Oh please run fast, oh please run far
No never stop until you find the world
Where no one knows you, then you’ll cry.

But don’t be scared. Afraid to die.
That was just the original lie.

Waves of grey, waves of pain.
When they settle down what kind of world
Do you think will remain?

Cause I… know she comes again.
I can feel the rotting smell of lying to so many men.

And I. I run so far.
I will run until I find the world
Where no one ever knew me and then I

Won’t be afraid to die.
That was just the original lie.

Waves of stink- I feel her there
In a room by herself and
It’s too dark to think of anybody else

And so she comes. Comes again.
Sometimes you just bow your head and
Let the darkness win and then you run.

Run so far. I will run until
I find a world where no one ever knew me and then I
Won’t be afraid to die
That was just the original lie.

Original LieDownload

My new bed which came as a box of 5,000 bars. I wasn’t going to bother even trying especially since my wrist is messed up so I can’t turn screws but three people from the shelter showed up like angels & put it together. Megatron* sent me green sheets. So many people have been helpful that sometimes I cry from guilt because I know I’ll never repay them.

That is Glenn on the right, my oldest friend, & Snuffles on the left. Meat** said it looks like a prison bed, which may be just what I need since prisoners are hard & wily.

I feel so afraid. I have to go to court in 10 days for J’s trial & I don’t know what I’m supposed to do or what will happen. It’s horrible. All I wish is that there was something I could do to make things good.

The shelter ladies gave me a choice between a green and a gray basket of home goods & I chose green. It feels like green is the color guiding me forward.

* Megatron is the being formed by women acting collectively. I can’t believe how many women have helped me. It’s humbling. I really don’t think the negative stereotypes about females are true. It seems to me they are angelic beings.

** Meat is the name of a human friend. A lady.

Categories
Astrology Charleston, West Virginia My Life Story On My Own Uncategorized

Sad

Well the thing I had been dreading happened. Neptune finally hit the bottom of my chart (representing home) and I had to move out of my house with James, Patton & Slippers into an apartment by myself.

I don’t know if I can talk about this yet because it is too painful. I poured all my love into one person and by the end he would not even allow me to speak in my own home- the home I spent one million hours painting & cleaning, the home where I served him food every day, made him 5 coffees a day, always did what he wanted and tried to please him. But no matter what I did his view of me kept growing darker and darker.


One wrong word from me had become so powerful it would derail his brain for weeks and force him to stay in bed, missing important deadlines. This is why I was no longer able to talk. So I stopped. But that wasn’t enough. In the end he said my very presence terrified him. He wanted me gone. And so I had to move out. That is the bad part. The horrible part. I can’t even process it or figure out what it means.

Based on what others tell me he is narcissistic & discarding me because of his upcoming domestic violence trial. I no longer reflect positively on him and it is easier to get rid of me than to own some mistakes and move forward. Some people tell me he has borderline disorder or might be experiencing psychosis. Sometimes he would scream at me “I’M INSANE- DON’T YOU GET IT!!!!! HOW STUPID ARE YOU!?!?! MY BRAIN DOESN’T WORK!!!”

Some men ask what I did to him to make him this way. Some say he must have just stopped loving me. If there is one area of life in which I applied myself it was as a wife. I did everything I could for him. He used to yell that his stress was due to the house being in foreclosure. “THANKS TO YOU WE ARE GOING TO BE HOMELESS, DON”T YOU GET IT!?!? HOW STUPID ARE YOU?!?!” So I got us in a covid relief program that paid all $18,550 of the debt. It took me 9 months. It didn’t even make him like me for one minute.

He said he couldn’t afford food so I got us foodstamps. He didn’t want to be bothered, so I didn’t bother him. If he wanted cookies at one am, I made them. I *wanted* to make them because I liked doing things for him. He meant so much to me.

He wanted me to run for office and I did. He wanted me to start a cardano stakepool so I did. If he wanted me to do astrology readings for him or his stakers I jumped at it. I would have done anything for him. I enjoyed it.

When I try to think of why he hates me these are the only things I can think of…

  1. I’m not capable of sleeping in the same bed. I just can’t fall asleep. For a long time, anything hurtful he did would be attributed to how I hurt him by not sleeping in the same bed and he needs that.
  2. I can’t swallow his cum. This makes me want to throw up. It’s nothing personal to him I just don’t believe in eating things that aren’t foods. Just thinking about it I’m starting to gag.
  3. I turned him into the police. I didn’t know he would get arrested. I just wanted their help and didn’t know where else to turn. It had been 5 years of him hurting me and in those situations you have little recourse since you are supposed to keep the whole thing private. Him going to jail was my greatest nightmare. I didn’t want that. But he will never forgive me for it. He says I did it out of spite.
  4. I had a mini-affair. After he came back from jail, he was darker than ever. I didn’t know what to do. He loathed me. If I tried to talk, he would twist a blanket into a rope & hold it over my mouth.

    I didn’t know what to do. I felt I’d exhausted all options on the side of good, so decided to try to the dark side & went to second base with a psychopath. In some ways, it helped because it diverted my mind from James, so I could leave him alone more. But it wasn’t long before this other guy was also threatening to kill me and I felt maybe I didn’t want to be a lying cheating whore anyway.

    So this could be why James hates me. But he hated me before I did it too. He hated me before he went to jail. He would scream at me that I was a stupid fucking cunt who had ruined his life. He didn’t say how.



If people had watched the last 6 years they would probably not understand why I miss James so much. But I really loved him. His essence and smell, not necessarily the way he treated me. Now that I’ve met more humans they always say I’m funny and that James must like how funny I am. This makes me laugh because, no, James does not find me amusing. At best, I’m a stupid cunt. At worst, a terrifying presence. “PLEASE STOP!!!!! STTTTTOOPPPPP!!!! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME!!!???” he would scream on repeat while covering his ears, crying and rocking back and forth if I tried to talk to him about anything. He does not find me funny.

But its more than his essence… I liked how caring and protective he once seemed. How loyal I thought he was and how much I thought he loved me. I liked that he wanted to put down roots with me and create something lasting. I liked collecting things with him and having a house and dogs. I liked it when we cooked together. I liked how he used to help me solve my problems.

When I first met him, I was pretty insane due to living in isolation with a husband who had me be 28 different people. James’s love & his encouragement to listen to myself helped me untie many knots.

But even in the beginning, some problems were there. About every third day would be spent in the closet crying because he would go into rages. I can’t remember what the rages were about. It seems like they didn’t make much sense. My first husband also went into frequent rages about things that were hard to understand. But with James I would block all the bad things out. Because he was True Love. I saw him as perfect and those were the feelings I had towards him. Absolute trust as well.

It was only when he started getting physical that the fog started to lift a little. Because I felt that was crossing a line. As a kid I heard that if a man hits you you must leave immediately,. So I felt I had to draw a line there. But I couldn’t. After jail I stopped trying to draw that line. Cause it felt like me drawing lines was the problem. The problem was that I was a bad wife who had got her husband in trouble. So I wasn’t going to make a deal about it anymore.

But in the end, he wanted me to leave. I was so malicious, so psychopathic, such a lying gaslighting spiteful cunt that he needed me gone so he could function. No amount of silence, service, tolerance, anything made me better in his eyes.


Now when I go to the house to visit the dogs he is neither hot nor cold. Neither happy nor bothered. I’m a janitor wandering in to clean the toilets. No longer a psychopath. No longer a malicious cunt. Just a nothing.



Categories
Charleston, West Virginia Music & Songs On My Own Sky Blue, Ether, Flags, and Fairies

Life is Pain

Fruit Cocktail bought with my new EBT card in a bowl given to me by the women’s shelter who are also paying for my apartment. The single life is full of woe. If you are married- PLEASE never leave your husband. Especially if he orders you pizzas or takes you to chick fil-a. Especially if you can get dipping sauces & order breadsticks and fries and milkshakes. You would be insane to walk away from something like that. Nothing is worth more than the lump of a warm body combined with food.

Life is pain.
Bang your head on the shining door
Everything you went looking for
In his eyes.

It was maybe a dream
Worlds that bubble up from the floor
Head is twisting a little more…
Who am I?

Do you hear all the little things? They sing.
All the little things, they say
All the time we need to get back home, we’ll find.

Stay closely by
Move slowly across the floor
Everything you went looking for
You’re about to find.

Close both of your eyes
Hear the words that the people say
Feel the waves come in cool and gray.
You can feel a life.

Life is a flood.
Pumping his dreams into your blood
Heaving gently against the mud.
Never alone.

Can you fight for the flame?
Clawing your way towards the light.
Bleeding silent into the night.
Almost home.

Do you hear all the little things? They sing.
All the little things, they say
All the time we need to get back home, we’ll find.

Stay closely by.
Move slowly across the floor
Everything you went looking for
You’re about to find.

Close both of your eyes.
Hear the words that the people say
Feel the waves come in coold and grey.
You can feel a life.

Do you hear all the little things? They sing.
All the little things, they sing.
All the songs we need to get back home we’ll find.

Life is PainDownload
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Charleston, West Virginia Music & Songs On My Own Red, Soldiers, & Fire

Please Don’t Hurt Me

Okay this is a song. I hope it sounds like one but I am too nervous to listen because this is my first attempt recording by myself which I have to do since I moved out on my own which is very sad and scary but by the end James was just screaming at me all the time that he was terrified of me and I was a psychopath and I made it so his brain didn’t work and he needed me gone so he could think and I didn’t really know what to do so finally I did what he wanted, just like I always did, and left.

I was already enrolled in a program through the women’s shelter to be placed somewhere so they are paying my rent for the first year. If it wasn’t for that I don’t know what I would have done. I don’t understand what is going on with James, if he is suffering from something or messing with me, but by the end restrictions had become so severe that it was a feat to accommodate him. I started to take pride in my ability to contort into more and more ridiculous positions.

The rules went from not being allowed to ask questions to not being allowed to speak. At all. Because one word from me could be so disruptive to his brain that he would be compelled to stay in bed for three weeks recovering and missing important meetings.

But the more I was expected to stay perfectly silent & calm the more he would amp up the behaviors most likely to upset me and make them more and more obvious, such as his romantic interactions with other women. By the end, I just accepted this and remained unmoved. It was the only option left.

And he was still allowed to speak of course, since he was not the terrifying psychopathic one. Every day he would unleash on me multiple times about how I had ruined his life, stopped his brain from working, lost him a billion dollars that very day etc. By the end, not talking & silently accepting everything was no longer good enough because by then my very presence threw him into a state of terror.

I moved out close to 2 weeks ago and at first just felt extremely sad about losing this perfect love. But as time moves on I am starting to see other things that make me feel other feelings. Like fear. At home I was not allowed to be afraid of him. Because I was the terrifying one.

Setting up the kitchen in my new home. I really hope this works out. I have to admit I felt much safer with James at the wheel.

Please don’t hurt me.
Please don’t let them do me harm.
If they try let them die
By your arm.

Please don’t let them touch what’s mine.
Please no sneaking behind my back.
And all the treasures they defile
Bring them back.

Let me fly God let me fly
Let me watch the world below.
Blood is flowing in the streets
Let it flow, let it flow.

Let me see God let me see
Give me eyes on every side
And when they come again for me God
Let them die.

Always thought your way was love, I never knew a thing.
God is not sweet words, a smile, a home, a diamond ring.
God is not the man who stands by you when you kneel down to pray.
He only stands behind you when you slay.

You wanted me to rise and sing
You wanted me so tall
To kick and spit and elbow when they had me gainst the wall.

You wanted me to scream and curse
And bite them in the dick
And not to care what other people think.

If God lives he lives through us
so rise up from your bed.
And let him place the crown upon your head.

Please Don’t Hurt MeDownload
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Charleston, West Virginia Uncategorized Writings

Rise of the Triple-Saint

Well it turns out double-saintdom is not all its cracked up to be. Enter the triple-saint.

The triple saint is a defensive position; flower turning into bud. The goal of the triple saint is to avoid feeling angry or hurt in situations that would rightfully make you so in the hopes of neutralizing a degenerative cycle.

Because no matter how much we talk up assertiveness, the reality is that assertiveness will sometimes get you killed. People are naturally going to advocate for themselves when it’s safe to do so. But sometimes it isn’t. Sometimes you have to bend over & take it without getting broke on the inside. The triple saint is lubed and ready.

The triple saint is for when appeals to sympathy have fallen on deaf ears. You are overpowered, not human, and communication is pointless. You’re in a banana court for a crime you didn’t commit. People want you to swing. Why? Cause they took your money & if you die they don’t have to pay you back. The triple saint is for when you are the scapegoat.

Unlike the double saint, the triple saint has given up on being a pleasing mist. She knows all efforts to appease our futile. She is a pawn and the script has already been written. She is irredeemable & must be sacrificed.

The triple saint is caught in a backwards spiral. This is a relationship dynamic in which the more you give, the more you end up in debt. An example would be a hooker who works 7 days a week but owes her pimp so much money she can’t leave.

In a backwards spiral, you are always guilty, so you compensate by trying to give more, care more, cater more & pay closer attention to someone else so they will stop feeling wronged by you.

But no matter how you try, you just make things worse. All your efforts are either zeroes or strikes against you. And if you ever feel that this is unjust & try to defend yourself, well now you’re on trial for that. Guilty. Of hurting the other person by defending yourself. Guilty. Of being hurt by their actions. Guilty for how you made them feel, for what you made them do.

Backwards spirals occur when there is a power imbalance to begin with so confronting the other person will not succeed. Imagine a slave confronting their master. Any confrontation is a mark against you. Any complaint a grave injustice.

The path of the triple saint involves three steps which are simple but difficult to perform.

  1. Stop Giving. This is most important.

    You must turn off the flow of giving that you rely on to feel safe. To feel in control and hopeful that you might turn things around.

    The triple saint must stop believing she can change people by loving them. Perhaps this works with plants, animals and babies but it doesn’t with men. Why? I don’t know. My theory is that God designed life in part to sharpen our wits. He doesn’t want us to be potatoes getting everything we want with hugs & smiles. And so he made darkness & men & the law of the jungle was born.

    Anyway, here are the reasons you must stop giving…

    a) To give up the dream that you can change people with love. So long as you see yourself as the cause and controller of other people’s behavior you cannot see them clearly. Without seeing your environment clearly, it is impossible to make wise choices.

    b) Giving entangles you. You cannot truly feel great about constantly giving to someone who mistreats you. So you will end up feeling upset. This will eventually leak or explode out and become evidence of what a bad person you were all along.

    c) Giving entangles you. You cannot truly feel happy about giving to someone who mistreats you. You will want them to change & will eventually express this in some form. This will make them feel controlled.

    c) Giving entangles you. The more you give the more you are associated with the person’s problems. The problems you are trying to solve. So when blame comes down the pipe, you will be the first one hit.

    d) Giving places you in the parent role. Whatever unresolved parent issues he has will be placed onto you. He starts expecting you to be responsible for everything, including his feelings. And at the same time you will be unappreciated and invisible as a person in your own right. Like a mom. You are a source of support and a place to dump negativity.

    e) When you become the parent, he becomes the child. It’s not safe for men to regress into childlike roles, dues to their natural aggression which needs to be controlled through a sense of personal responsibility.

    f) Men are rewards driven. When you give in response to bad behavior, you incentivize it. If you try to heal pain, you incentivize pain. If you cater to mental illness, you incentivize insanity.

    g) Giving is a drug that eases anxiety. Until you stop, you won’t really know what feelings you are running away from or be able to address them.

    f) Giving depletes your resources. And you are going to need them. Maybe you can’t stop the attacks, but you can be strong when they occur.

  2. Give to yourself. Maybe you are the person you can actually change.

    You probably fear you will be attacked if you invest in yourself. Maybe you will be. But you will be attacked anyway. Investing in yourself will make you stronger, more able to withstand, and a less appealing target.

    Men- unlike women- never treat people well for being nice. They respect power. Having more of it is your best hope for good treatment.

    And even if it doesn’t change how you are treated it gives you more options.

    Giving to yourself can mean different things. What holes do you have that you are hoping this man will fill? Can you fill them yourself?

    Are you seeking romantic feelings? Touch? Money? Friendship? A garbage man? Someone to compliment your eyes your thighs? If you can figure out what you are needing you can start trying to resolve your own neediness. Use your energy to fill your own holes. Stop trying to fill his holes. They might not be what you think they are anyway, since men tend to hide their true needs & feelings while projecting out false vulnerabilities for their enemies to strike.

    If you are with him for sex, buy a vibrator. Money, get a job. Self-esteem, start praising yourself. Romance, buy scented candles & lie under a flower bush.

  3. Lastly, what should the triple saint do when attacked? Don’t fight back or defend. Their goal is for you to be bad. They have more power than you or you wouldn’t be here. Any battle is a loss for you.

    See attacks as weather. A cold breeze is touching you. A piece of hail falls on your head. Take shelter or curl into a ball but don’t fight. There’s nothing to fight. What’s happening has nothing to do with you. It hurts so bad to be powerless to change things, powerless to make things better. It hurts to have love withdrawn after you have made all life choices around the idea it would always be there. But saints were born to hurt. Just hold on to the idea that there is another world where you are loved. A perfect world. Rest there silently until the storm passes.