Lulu Lunacy

Because I like seeing them again, sometimes. And occasionally, I do think myself clever. I'm tired of holding up the sky...I just want to let go. ~LRM Dec. 15 2012 Star Trek TOS had it spelled out for us over 40 years ago and we still haven't listened. ~LRM  12/15/12 Posts regarding the horrible Connecticut elementary school shootings; December 14th 2012 I think The 2nd Amendment is tired of being slathered in make-up, whored out to slobbering old deviants and passed around for a gang bang. Re-posted from a FB comment by Steve Sutcliffe; 10 Myths about gun-control debunked: 1. "Guns don't kill people; people do." Actually, people WITH guns tend to do most of the malicious killing, and commit virtually all of the mass-killings in this country, which seem to occur about once a month or so. Meanwhile, marijuana - something which has never killed anybody - is still illegal in almost all states. 2. "If guns are outlawed, only outlaws will have...

DAE notice today FB's Status asks "What are you thankful for"? So I'll tell you; Breathing being an automatic, natural reflex and me not having any breathing problems. When I die, it's on my terms, in my time. One thing I KNOW is that I don't want to suffer breathing trouble before I die. I've seen it, it's horrible. That would also include drowning, I call that a breathing problem. I have such a "thing" about this breathing stuff it's pretty much why I don't smoke (anything) but for once in a blue moon. How much kicking of myself would be done if I fucked up my lungs MYSELF and couldn't breathe properly for the rest of my days. And I HATE coughing, and not just because I have a dribbly bladder. It's noisy and annoying as fuck, smokers cough being the worst. I have no sympathy for someone who does that to themselves of their own free choice. Go cough your lungs up in a bank vault so I don't have to hear ...

Getting so tired...inside. In my soul. In my head. In the little parts of me that still held some light. They're fading, giving in to the night inside my mind. Black ink seeping under locked doors...staining the brightness, drowning the flames I kept that that lit the way.  Opinions are like farts, sometimes we expell them in the wrong company. ~LRM The only way to best a crazy person is to simply be crazier. ~LRM "It's like having a part of your heart, your soul, your lung, just walking around outside of you on their own, out of your protective reach." ~When Your Children Move Away/LRM "If you're going to get butt-hurt that easily, you'd better stay off the internet." ~LRM/Oct. 8, 2012     Why don't the killers or zombies ever trip & fall? Especially the ones with masks, you know their vision is all restricted & shit, and zombies, FFS! They always have a freakin' kneecap on backwards or at least a really wrong loo...

LRM Oct 19 2012 Just had some friend of my neighbors call me a "white whore"/"white bitch". Twice. Just for asking him to move out of my parking space. Just because he said it in Spanish DOES NOT mean it means or is meant any LESS than if it was in English. He was a bit taken aback that I understood him (thanks, Caj for teaching Mommy useful stuff). Why can they get away with that shit and if I had said something clearly racist and derogatory to him in plain English I'd have a mob after me and be called a racist and a bigot.   As soon as I said "Are you drunk? Driving around with your kids?!" he loaded up and left before I had even unloaded my groceries (I'm making tacos, of all things). I was going to go out and get his plate number. T , that is the naked, bitter truth of it. If any other race does it, well, us white devils deserve it because of what our "history" is (weird, because I'm not Spanish and Columbu...

"She never sets foot out of her apartment or her past." Quoted line from ~Gigi

I know I've posted some strange crap today, lol. They were old drafts I decided to just put up (because in draft s I obviously forget them) and work on the m to clarify things at my leisure. So eventually they will make a *bit* more sense. Not much though, I'm afraid.

Re-Posted by the13thcynic December 20, 2008 at 2:08 AM  Originally posted as a Journal entry; Tuesday, February 26, 2008  How Me & My Arm Spent Tuesday; So I went to my broken arm Dr this afternoon with C*, S* & baby L*(T*). We’ve been waiting all this time for the swelling to go down so I could get a cast on it finally. So we go in, kinda curious, I didn’t look when they re-wrapped it after my surgery before I went home; it was still too new & sore & weird…the girls didn’t see it either; so we’re all waiting to be amazed by FrankenArm, I know it has 2 big ol’ incisions in it w/ stitches & the tape stuff over then, blah, blah…well…ew…first the nurses start unwrapping it and begin talking amongst themselves about getting saline & working the gauze off, & as they do that, ‘oh, we better get the Doctor for this one’, and ‘does that hurt? Because it looks like it really hurts…’ and ‘oh, wow, I’ve never seen that before..wow, oh, don’t...

Originally Written by the13thcynic February 7, 2009 at 12:38 AM  I don’t claim ‘Damage Control’ as one of my occupation for schiesses and giggles. I picked up that career when my oldest went to live with her Dad’s family. Doesn’t look like I’ll be retiring anytime soon. My granddaughters have been staying with C* and I the last few days. Because their mother and father both are in jail. Again. Now we’re faced with the very real decision of whether or not to take steps to permanently take custody of them from their obviously inept parents. These babies cannot keep living like this and watching their parents routinely being handcuffed and hauled off in a police car. Not to mention the bullshit that’s going on to bring about these repetitive and unannounced visits from law enforcement. Days before this latest trip to the clink, she miscarried twins (she was approx 12 weeks), which, god knows, was all for the best. I know how she lost them. Well, I can’t say how 100% but ...

The old saying, don't speak ill of the dead. I am curious to find out what happens to someone who blatantly lied about the dead. I want to be around to see it. Not that this is the first nor the last time anyone has ever told a bold, outright lie and insisted it was said by someone who hadn't even been in the Arms of Mother Earth 24 hours yet, but I've never experienced it on such a personal and intimate level before, with the lie in question directly concerning me.

My Baby, now so far from me, the distance, see, will be the death of me.

I haven't been abducted by aliens (yet) I'm just having a meltdown on my nuclear battleship. I, being the Damage Control Officer, must do my duty to the end. I'm somewhere between Three Mile Island/The China Syndrome and Chernobyl. Actually...I keep fluctuating between them. We could go full on red alert battle-stations, but guess what? I'm the only one on the stinkin' ship! So I'm trying to keep my little life vest on and do my rounds. Damage control stuff. Probably the only thing worse than Chernobyl is the awesome puffy mushroom cloud, but I won't be going there, that requires walking up a hill and I'm too exhausted to walk uphill. So there's that. This all feels SOOOOO NOT REAL DOODS. Can I just come back and talk to you now & then? Nobody freak out or anything or PLEASE don't ask what's wrong because that will breech (breach?) my lockdown concentration and you know, mushroom clouds start looking fluffy and not so ...

Gee. I sure wish we could see our oh-so-wonderful mountains with the multitude of colors and brilliant leaves all over them...but nooooo, thanks to the smoke from some bloody damned fire and this (brilliant idea, Brigham, ya stoopid TWAT!) godforsaken valley cramming inversions and FIRE SMOKE down on top of us FOR THE LAST WEEK SOLID and murking up the now muted and mired mountains, we can see no such Wonders of Nature. We can see mountainous shapes hazed over in smoggy gray. Woo. Let me contain my excitement. Oh, but you've seen it dozens of times before, you say? MAYBE I NEVER WANTED TO LOOK AT THEM THEN? YA SMARTASSED BASTAGE! MAYBE BECAUSE HOPEFULLY THIS WILL BE MY LAST FALL HERE IN ZION CRAPLAND I WANTED TO SEE THEM WHEN THE TREES WERE ALL RED AND ORANGE! Suck it easy.

Going through the two large tackle boxes of my Dad's that Mom let us bring back to Utah along with a few of his poles. Cajun and I are divvying up the stuff before she moves to North Dakota in a few days (she'll be doing much more fishing than I so she's getting the bulk of it) and I run into two old containers with the old lures still in them...they're what he used while I was very young during our many, many camping and fishing trips we took as a family. I kept catching myself grinning at rusty old lures and hooks and broken, taped up little lure organizers. I'll put pictures up when I can transfer them (phone's off for a while). I kept drifting off thinking of manning my usual little black fishing pole, sitting beside the gently lapping water of various lakes here in Northern Utah, Smith Morehouse, Mirror Lake, Pineview Reservoir. And watching the sparkling, sometimes blinding fast little lures gliding expertly through the water at the end of my dad...

And it came to pass that the multitudes laughed and boasted amongst themselves that they had indeed used her for their own fickle gratifications, but she whispered to them thusly; I finished what I started and started what I intended each and every time. It was I who have used you. ~The Book of Rae.

  I know some of my other Page owner Sisters and Brothers in Insanity have been experiencing similar questions from people, and I have certainly encountered some doubters in my 21 years of being diagnosed, it really is a constant fight we don't need added onto everything else we deal with. So I wrote this on my regular FB profile; *** It's a beautiful day outside, just like yesterday...and all I w ant to do is shut down and sleep. Just like yesterday. I hate feeling like this and I really do try to pull myself out of it and distract myself as much as possible. You know, because I've spent 4 decades listening to well meaning (and not so well meaning irritated and frustrated) people and society telling me to just suck it up, snap out of it, just be happy, just do something fun...so I still try. But I know what the outcome is. MAYBE a temporary distraction, a brief, fleeting glimmer of what could be, but no more. Like a wheelchair bound believer at a tent heal...

For all the reasons I loved you, there are twice as many for hating you. For all the times you've made me laugh, there are twice as many I cried. For all the nights I slept just fine, there are twice as many I didn't. For all the mornings I woke beside you, there are twice as many I woke alone. For all the promises and words of love, there were twice as many lies. For all the reasons I don't want you back, there are twice as many I do. ~LRM 4/29

I never hated wire hangars before seeing that movie. Now they make me want to put meringue on my face and scream at children.  I'd rather be technically correct than politically or acceptably correct. Or even grammatically. Depending on technical superiority. I don't think it's a Higher Power. I think it's Us. ~LRM April/2012

Re-posted from my Facebook status. Being without cable TV leaves you with some interesting lack of channels to surf through, so I stopped on something with Kirk Cameron blathering on about his thing and I'll tell you what, America, if Kirk Cameron came up to me and started haranging me like he did the (carefully picked, I'm sure) "Atheists" and "non believers" who accordingly wilted and stammered under his totally awesome line of questioning, I would hit him so hard with a cattle prod he'd wake up back in the 80's. I used to be one of these Born Again Jesus Freak Bible Thumpers. They are disturbing as well as disturbed. (Friend commented);  What snapped you out of it? I eventually saw everyone (I was Jesus freaking with) was fake. Or, more accurately, human. I also read a lot. We believed in deliverance, pretty much that demonic entities could slip on into you for every little fuck up, the whole world was a hostile and evil pla...

I wish I could give you an infallible rule for success in writing. I know but one. If you feel the urge, write and keep on writing.  Margaret Echard

Some artists believe, you cannot have great art without some madness and with that madness comes a search to escape it.  I have never seen A more beautiful machine Than the one they call Miss Fury Christine. And I have always said Christine Isn't dead. IF If there were a God If there were a Heaven If there were Angels and Demons and if they had a War That War in Heaven is over That War with God is done If there is a God If my words He can hear and If he wisely heeds them My War with God has just begun.  I used to love words. I lived to laugh and dance with them, arranging them to my song and symphony. Now my thoughts fail me. I think I hate them now.

So you know how when you get stoned or maybe from pain killers or other meds/drugs sometimes you feel like you're just floating through a movie of what you're doing, like you keep loosing track of time and what you're doing or were focusing on, not like ADD or OCD sidetracked, but more surreal and filmy, like looking through frosted glass in your brain at times. Like you've partially stepped outsi de yourself and are walking beside yourself. Like there are little black holes in your mind and things you read, watch, hear people say, etc and keep trying to grasp and hang onto, sometimes just stroll blindly into those black holes and silently vanish irretrievably. 99 out of a hundred times they're just gone forever, and I have to just drop it (the idea I'll retrieve the memory) and go on to something else. I live in a bit of a different world since my *break* happened. I thought it was something that would pass, but I'm starting to think this is pe...