I am reposting this blog for a reason.
I skim through blogs and read. Idiotorial caught my attention. I followed and I am glad I did. It too is a personal blog.
At first, I gasped at her thoughts. But I knew they were important to her.
She is halfway around the world from me. Living, breathing writing.
There is much to be learned from others.
Meet Rafa. He has lived with all of his life until last night.
We are in Costa Rica wondering exactly what happened. But really we know. It’s gonna take a while to process.
Rafa’s Dad came to live with us over twenty years ago. He was living in a man camp. And kept getting fired from all of his jobs. I met him when a man building my fence asked to hire him. When I saw how Nestor held a hammer I knew why he got fired all of the time. I took the hammer from his hand. ‘It’s OK.”
He came to live with us. He got married. He had two children. We lived here like a family. Many things have occurred. We have been through a lot together.
Rafa graduated high school and wanted to go to college. I believe Rafa is an exceptional person with a high I Q.
His parents refuse to let him attend the University. We offered to pay for his tuition. He is now working as a laborer. He is now a laborer who belongs in academia. He wants to be in academia. I didn’t make this up for him.
His parents have moved to a Nicaraguan “hood”.
There is much racism here in Costa Rica. The general consensus is Nicas are not smart. Drunks. The women are loose. And they will never get anywhere. I have experienced a lot of racism dumped on this kid. And now I have seen it dumped on him by his own parents.
Unbelievable. They sincerely believe he needs to stay out of school. No education for Rafa.
Continue reading Crabs in a Big Brown Bucket
Making this choice is not difficult for me. Being born an artist I wouldn’t have it any other way. I am missing the boat that they’re on and they are missing the one that I am on.
I would like to write a normal post. But I don’t believe there is any such thing anymore. Why are my photos tagged screenshot?
I just had to delete a list of freeloaders on my widgets ( the directional columns on the left), I don’t know these people. I don’t want to know them. I don’t want to be a springboard for other people’s scams and marketing tactics. I pay for this blog. I pay for it to be free of advertisements.
In the beginning, I wrote about being free of alcohol and I was loaded down with Vodka ads. I couldn’t have that.
I have never participated on this site to try and make money. And I darn sure don’t need a machine to do my writing for me. I don’t need a machine to create art or to play music. Sorry y’all but I am bored to tears when you are on stage musically masturbating with your gadgets. And then it all sounds the same. Every song. No soul.
ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE is taking over.
Many have jumped on board. The blog posts are often appalling.
Continue reading Escape ?
This is a loaded question. I can say no, but I’m not stiff with my time. I go with the flow. An eclectic cartesian point rules my world. It points towards the sea. Everything else is what happens while I create my goals. Giving my time is Love.
This was written by a friend of many years. He is on his way out. We all are. I have a deep love for all humanity. I do what I call SAMM. Surf, art, music and massage. I get many compliments. But just yesterday, I got the best ever. A young man told me he felt I had a gift for helping others. He said, “it’s not just your experience. I believe it’s a gift you have.” As much time as I have spent with people, I know this was not a schmooze. But sincere. It was deeply meaningful to me. It felt superlative.
I have a goal of agape love. What’s yours?
Through the years having miles of conversations concerning peace and violence, people would always bring up Ghandi. I would have to inform them he did not win India through 100% peace. He was told to give up or the British were going to slaughter a community and that they did. When this massacre became public things changed. What is wrong with people? What is the inhumane nature of humanity about? It cannot be ignored. We all must choose our paths daily. I do. It’s been a long walk.
Billy Jack, Walking Tall and My Name is Nobody are movies I frequented in my youth. Just to be asked this question has flooded my mind with childhood/teenage memories.
At one time, I knew the entire script of Billy Jack. I was enamored with the idea of pacifism. – I was expressing peace daily. Expounding on the concept of peace. As I pontificated on peace one day, my brother grabbed me and beat me up. He said that was to assure me that I was not a pacifist. I do not speak to my brother anymore. It took many years to break that familial tie, but I finally did it. I was also a runaway. I related to the kids, in Jane’s camp. There was such an underground world of care back at that time. I do not regret any of my adventures. Except for maybe not being able to make it on my own, and having to come home. I hope to enroll at the Universidad de Paz in Costa Rica, this August. I am and always have been in pursuit of peace.
Bufford Pusser in Walking Tall had similar characteristics as Billy Jack. Billy Jack was an avenger. So was Bufford. He stood up for the disadvantaged. He took names and he kicked ass. One low life m-fer at a time. Greed and corruption had taken over his Tennessee home town, whilst he was away prize fighting. When he came home, he didn’t recognize his neighborhood. Gambling and prostitution had taken over. He became the local sheriff/peacemaker. Bufford walked with a big stick and beat the hell out of the low crawling, scumbag, vermin that had infested his peaceful hill. The tragic thing was the bad guys in an attempt to assassinate Bufford, with a long range rifle, killed his wife. And they will die and go to hell for that. Walking Tall was based on a true story.
My Name is Nobody started out with a guy, in a mountain stream, catching fish with his hands. Then he was in a saloon. He drew six guns and slapped a guy in the face, faster than lightening. Pow, pow, pow! Nobody was an out of touch with reality character. It was a spaghetti western/comedy. I was in the eleventh grade and I would drive myself and my sister to the theatre. We would laugh hysterically. I wanted be like Nobody. Sling and slap. M-fer, you are going down. I despise the dog pile of life. And I don’t like being at the bottom. I have had to scrap and scrape in my life. These movies were cathartic for me. – Henry Fonda who played in this movie was asked, who is faster than the fastest gunslinger in town and his reply was “Nobody.” Hence, Nobody showed up to save the day.
I watched those movies fifty and over years ago. I am going to watch them again. If my information concerning these movies is incorrect, get over it. I don’t want to fight about it. Look them up and read about them. Watch them. They are great movies. I wrote this from memory. And what a special memory this has been.
It’s funny – I checked AI for feedback on my writing. I have to laugh. — Beware of the new corruption. There is zero way to fight back.
If you are bored – you are boring. I always say I am not a jealous or envious person because I am fascinated by my own life. I’m the kind of person who can enjoy watching the grass grow. I almost got bored thinking about what bores me. I drew a blank. Then the grass took off.
*This photo was taken in Cordele GA. My granddaughter drove as I snapped shots with my Canon 7d. One of my favorites. This shot is symbolic of the South. Coming apart at the seams.
Oh hell yeah – I stayed one step ahead of the shoe shine, two steps away from the county line. Just trying to keep my customers satisfied. Satisfied.
*I have written about it throughout my blog* My writing is full of the truth. Confessional. That is why it is obscured. But it can be unearthed. You have to want to know.
*The photo is of my 1991 Toyota that I drive on Amelia Island, FL. Land of the rich and famous. One time sunny place for shady characters. Some consider keeping this rusted, mule of a vehicle, on the road – criminal. I have fun.
*Catch me if you can.
*Whitehouse/Westide is a part of Jacksonville FL – It is called Zone 4 – which is across the board, known as a heart rate zone. It is where I am from.
*whoops – I read the prompt wrong.
Fish Eye Farm 