True Cost

Saw this little gem last night on Netflix.   Though I had known what disgusting conditions my need for more, had third world countries; I obviously did not understand the depth of my gluttony.

The world now consumes about 80 billion new pieces of clothing every year. This is 400% more than the amount we consumed just two decades ago. As new clothing comes into our lives, we also discard it at a shocking pace. The average American now generates 82 pounds of textile waste each year. That adds up to more than 11 million tons of textile waste from the U.S. alone. Historically, clothing has been something we have held onto for a long time, but with cheap clothing now abundantly available we are beginning to see the things we wear as disposable.

Livia Firth/eco-age


American Beauty

Fear no messenger!

Behold the skew with a charm.

A lattice for her mystique.

Infinitely quotable…never disputable.

Only an American Beauty when holding my poor grammar in her hands.

Within seconds she can embellish my pride by provoking a grand stand.

All too often I am composed of complacency to daily duties.

Still, as mystics do, what they do!

My American Beauty can see directly through.

Ceaselessly, I am a pitiful calamity Jane misinterpreting her chores.

I am the forgotten item at a grocery store.

I am a slapstick Jester in the courtship of an American Beauty.

She is a visionary who can see right through me.

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If I had a star to give, I’d give it to you
Long as you live, would you have the time
To watch it shine, watch it shine
Or ask for the moon and heaven too? ##Jerry Garcia

Dreams I’ve put aside!

If I had the  chance to meet Dear Old Saint Nick…again, not ’75, but 2015…what would I have to offer?  What would convince me not to hesitate?  Would I go, go, go, undaunted, with wishes and good cheer, throughout the whole year?

Although the memories of youth are steeped in a steamy cover-up of good family, bad family…there are a handful of ‘thanks for the memories’ open spaces in my mind.  Places, attic crevices, basement hide-aways, and scantly clad, pauses, where I had learned…something worth living!

‘Be kind to others!’

Simple in nature and hard fought…coming from a home that never hid behind ghosts.  That aired it’s differences every night between the local news and the next Bruin’s game.

‘Volunteer, volunteer, volunteer.  Whatever the cause, if you feel strongly enough to do something about, do not sit back on your ass and complain about it.  Do something, little things, big things, written things…but do something about it!’

This had been a lesson plan handed to me by a set of authority figures clad in deep catholic faith and discipline via the belt!

Dear Santa,stand alone 4

It seems we, or should I say, I!  Have somehow become weary of the shit storm that brews in every American household…current day.

What’s that you say?

No, I no longer want a G.I Joe doll!  Currently, I would like to see others, as well as, myself, try more!

A simple hankering for, an almost inspired people to…take it one notch higher!

To answer your last question…

Am I doing enough?

Shit, no.  There is always more to be done.  The earth is crying.  Lives that were meant to be lived…no longer exist…for sake of…Actually, I cannot really say why we are knocking each other out in the first round.  I used to know.  But maybe even that had been wishful thinking.

I give up sometimes.  Throw my hands in the air.  Shut off what is loosely called, the news.

I shut off, shut down and decide, for a fleeting moment:

The boat is sinking.  The water smells like a boiled over septic tank.  The shore is now receded into the mid west and well,

‘Every lesbian for herself!’stand alone 2

But here is the thing…with everything else being true, I cannot save myself unless I help the person next to me.  Just how it is.  Two heads are better than one.

So, I try!  I try to believe on the darkest of days.  With another mass shooting.  Topped with another turn of unusual bad weather.  And, handed over on a plate of…‘it’s the over guy’s job,’

I try to believe…that just voice can make a small change.  And, a small change can incite, another voice…And, that, after a certain period of time, we can move a mountain.

Dear Santa,

I just want to keep on trying.  Keep pushing.  Keep persuading.  Keep speaking up…particularly, on days, when I want to hide back in 1975!

                                                                                                                 Peace Out


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Well I wish real hard when I close my eyes… 
If I could change the world–would I even try?
If I found a reason to regain my pride…
if I try to believe–try to believe!

If I had a dream and it got away…
If I found the words would I know what to say?
If I had a chance to be someone else…
Yeah, if I try to believe, try to believe

If I found a door I’ve never been through? 
Would I have the courage to go in without you ?
And, if time runs short would I recognize…
The things I couldn’t see?

If we listen to the voices that were silent for so long…
If you thought they went away, well you couldn’t be more wrong! 
If I tell you there is something that we’ve lost but can retrieve…
If I tell you there is hope, if we try to believe…
You remember there’s a dream that we long since put aside?
With the toys that we discarded… 
And, the tears we never cried
We could have had it once again, if we try baby try

If I try to believe–try to believe? 


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It’s so hard to trust another, when it’s easier to hide
It’s so hard to believe, unless we try, try, try!