What if I came at you with such loose labels as; fag, dyke, nigger, towelhead?
Where did the labels and the name calling begin? Does it sit with me, a woman deemed by many to have no soul, a romantic vulture and/or a narcissist who is in it to win it?
Has my ego became so large that what seems like a Robin Hood idealism is nothing but a poorly painted shell without a psyche? Had I given into the thought of turning the tables? Helping a baby dyke with diaper changing? Allowed for a path to be shown and to which, every Ambien volunteer could veer right or left. Was the purposeful lesson of ‘dignity for all’ an idea that started from within and, slowing given the option to be drawn upon a photographer’s lens with no right or wrong picture…
Indeed, am I politically correct to consider my own kind denouncing ME and US by their own admission of ignorance and indifference a vagrant’s vain attempt of learning through osmosis?
Had I offered the nakedness of picture taking perfect as an easy out? A simplictic yes or no answer? A fourth grader’s mechanical choice of right or wrong?
Because my spotted calf had chosen what sat behind door number one, homophobic lesbianism,on her own…she personally went about slicing the throats of all who walked a similar beat. A decision made for the sake of ‘the highest reward’ a parent’s grace.
Had all the obvious roads not taken been made more childlike, a toddler would have sat in my bed. But that was not the case.
If there is not an equation set before the dumbfounded and confused what there ever be an answer? And,, does anyone have the right to choose our rights by ignoring the hard-earned paths of others.
Philanderer, philosopher or plain old, sex fiend…I suppose that would be a tough call.
Yet, when the offer of an open door policy is erected within the rules of couple-dom, is it not the choice that makes us moral or not?
I have decided this:
To an extent to which there have been so much bullying by indifference that a Pavlov’s Dog needed to come to life.
I hung the treat in front of the young and naïve subject’s mouth and offered reward and/or punishment.
How can it be when given these options there is no right or wrong, just a simple and complete means to an end: Choosing to work legitimately as most adults do/ Opting to work without acknowledgement of tax and therefore, indeed taking food from the mouths of the poor.
AmeriCorps/VISTA/FEMA exploiting the good nature of her republic by ignoring the simple facts; partying, dancing, karaoke, free housing and 24/7 access to social media versus: volunteering without pay for the sake of volunteering without need for reward other than self fulfillment.
Opting to choose the consequences of our behavior and/or hiding behind labels and faulty advertisement and hidden surnames.
We all have choices!
Point of the matter, the lack of prayer in the classroom, the distance between war and peace, the hatred for each other that derives itself from an unknown origin, all stems from our own ability to evade the choice which maybe difficult. The ulterior motives in all of us, once laid out like a fresh turd on a hot’s summer’s day is our downfall.
The Ambien’s, the Annie‘s, the Brittany‘s and the Jeremy‘s of our nation’s newest real reality show are but simple knock offs. For it is far easier to fashion one’s self to difference than proclaim the choice ourselves
“I like work it fascinates me. I can sit and look at it for hours.” –Jerome K. Jerome.
So much for volunteering.
Fact number one: “We’re talking about a government program that will hire a quarter of a million, supposedly as volunteers that we pay. That will be the 14th largest employer in the country, assuming the federal government can actually manage this thing.” … Senator Jim DeMint Fact number two: Financed by the federal government, AmeriCorps funnels taxpayer dollars into the coffers of selected nonprofit organizations, which in turn use that money to pay the young people who register for a term of service with them. The recipients of AmeriCorps grants tend to be organizations whose politics fall on the left side of the spectrum, and whose efforts are focused on such projects as environmental activism, social-welfare programs, legal-aid assistance, political activism, teacher-education programs, community-organizer training, public health initiatives, childcare services, and ethnic-identity politics. Among the more notable recipients of AmeriCorps funding is the National Council of La Raza…
the National Council of La Raza succeeded in raking in over $15.2 million in federal grants last year alone, of which $7.9 million was in U.S. Department of Education grants for Charter Schools, and undisclosed amounts were for get-out-the-vote efforts supporting La Raza political positions.
It is of note that because there are no ‘worthy’ jobs out there for recent graduates, more and more are becoming paid volunteers. Putting more and more of a burden on our ‘economic’ distress.
Fact number three: CNCS, and specifically its AmeriCorps division, has been plagued with scandals. AmeriCorps is a federally funded community service program. Misuses in grant monies. Sexual harassment via the higher echelon amongst the ‘young’ volunteers. Having to spend more tax dollars to instill a ‘watch dog’ committee/babysitter for these unkept and misused services. Have all been issues raked over a bed of ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ coals.
Enough said. So, yeah, I worked under the table for about five or six months. Obviously, I fit the ‘ethic and profile’ that AmeriCorps VISTA is looking for.
Perhaps, my sexual harassment of employees at my previous ‘above board’ place of employment will place me even higher up the ladder.
Who knows maybe I can run for office someday with my resume of illegal and immoral behavior.’ It’s good to be me. White and happy and smiling. Fed, breed and never gonna be wed.
Definition of Volunteer Service. Volunteer service is any type of work that is done free of charge.
Really? I didn’t know that. I wouldn’t have taken the gig if that were true.
Food for vacant thoughts while pretending to look busy and volunteering and chewing gum at the same time. Mind you, I am adopted and know a bit about my heritage but I felt that being as shallow as the sex life of a one cell ameba…I needed to still do some research. White Trash with Money, Mummy and Daddy’s bank account…cold hard cash nonetheless.- These persons are usually ignorant, slovenly, slutty, and ill-behaved; some are also inbred. What distinguishes them from their RV-park brethren is their money. Somehow they have inherited a large sum of money or gotten a respectable job, but they still behave like redneck white trash. *Proof that you can take the person out of the trailer park, but can’t take the trailer park out of the person. **Untrue in my case, I do believe in hygiene I have skin issues so Mummy Theresa says, the harder you scrub down there the better. I work… I have several alias, I volunteer for VISTA and I’ve been known to work under the table, minus clothing, if the price is right but it is work nonetheless. Real life birth mother Josie, sista Gabbie and I can’t remember the other twelve children’s names…are what would be considered the following: Trailer Trash– Derogatory description for person who seems well-suited to residential life in a mobile home park and is distinguished by poor hygiene, foul language, slovenly or slutty clothing, and general ignorance. Recreations include drinking malt liquor in lawn chairs under tattered R.V. awning and teenage pregnancy. Close synonym for poor white trash. Can also be used as literal term for personal effects strewn by tornado when ripping though mobile home park. That what fit the Brast’s family décor to the tie. Personally, being on Ambien and being Ambien Grace, I feel at home wearing the same pair of underwear found on the floor board of my Dead Grandpa Ed’s Malibu…the stiffer the better.
It had once been said of me. To which I felt I had received the highest compliment: That Ambien/Annie/Gracie Grace…she doesn’t just settle for porn trailers she take the time to search for free high quality porn or subscribing (with a membership) to a paying website. One thumb up for me. Two thumbs up for those losers sitting at home watching porn trailers and never seeing the end of the movie.
So much of the fresh mowed earth, bouquets of charcoals burning, all steeped and stamped into the magic which is New Hampshire on a beautiful spring day.
I had chance to get Aunt Gladys trustee steed and moped extraordinaire out. Popped the clutch and took a ride on my not even close to a Harley Knock Off.Up the pastures that dot Gile road. Down the country dirty paved roads that mark Canterbury’s Center and down to the Farm I went.The memories hit me like the open fields of manure that crossed my path. Had it been almost a year ago? I knew the memory was evil. It sent chills up and down my leathered skin.Yup, a year ago it was. Pulled aside by Canterbury’s finest. Deputy Jerk Off and his donuts.Ambien Grace spread eagle in the back of Grandpa Ed’s Malibu. Can’t blame me she wanted to drive.In spite of myself I chuckled at the thought of her twenty two years quickly regressing back to infancy and a child’s inability to master the English language.”You two alright?” droopy draws with a badge inquired.By now I had lost the numb nut naked ass fake photographer who had been infatuated with my edginess. She could only mutter and nod her head and with failed attempts…cover her larger than life cleavage.”Yes sir, we were out taking pictures. Show the nice officer your camera Ambien/Annie.” I had urged the debutante of wasted education.All I received was a hand off of a highly over priced camera and a cough from the backseat of the Malibu.”You girls have some people curious up at the farm. Now I know what’s going on and whatever floats your boat. Who’s car is this?” Dime Store Deputy spouted.Again, nothing from the Malibu but, “I don’t think I have my license on me…I’m naked.” whispers Ambien/Annie.”Oh, it’s her car sir. The young girl in the back. Wave at the officer Ambien/Annie!” I coaxed strongly.One thing led to another. A wave and a license was handed out. A nod and a perverted smile grace Deputy Fife‘s stupid cousin. He hiked up his pants. Pulled his erection to the side and road off down the dirty and tainted farm road.
Needless to say, the moment had come and gone. Sex was sex. But big Momma Theresa will have a bird if she ever finds out about this one. And, Beckett Couvillion the third, I had been told, had a nose for sex. With all these revelations the younger by the minute twenty-two year old looked like a deer stuck in headlights.We hoped in the Malibu. Ambien/Annie popping a Clozapine or some kind of white pill with calming effects.She begged for me to calm her down. She whimpered her hopelessness in times of struggle. And, she asked for my hands between her legs as we drove back to reality.Looking at the farm now, I think only three thoughts:What a beautiful land I live in!What a stupid cow…glad she’s left the state.They just don’t make Malibu’s like they used to.I couldn’t take it any longer Lord I was crazed
And when the feeling came upon me
Like a tidal wave
I started swearing to my god and on my mother’s grave
That I would love you to the end of time
I swore that I would love you to the end of time!
So now I’m praying for the end of time
To hurry up and arrive
‘Cause if I gotta spend another minute with you
I don’t think that I can really survive
I’ll never break my promise or forget my vow
But God only knows what I can do right now
I’m praying for the end of time
It’s all that I can do
Praying for the end of time,
So I can end my time with you!!
TheCertifiablyTRUERavingsOfASectionedPhilosopher: Don't be afraid to think you might be a little 'crazy'. Who isn't? Check out some of my visualized poems here: https://www.instagram.com/maxismaddened/