What I Am

What I Am
think

I’m not aware of too many things
I know what I know, if you know what I mean
Philosophy is the talk on a cereal box
Religion is the smile on a dog
I’m not aware of too many things
I know what I know, if you know what I mean, d-doo yeah

Choke me in the shallow waters
Before I get too deep

What I am is what I am
Are you what you are or what?
What I am is what I am
Are you what you are or what?

Oh, I’m not aware of too many things
I know what I know, if you know what I mean
Philosophy is a walk on the slippery rocks
Religion is a light in the fog
I’m not aware of too many things
I know what I know, if you know what I mean, d-doo yeah

Choke me in the shallow water

Before I get too deep
Don’t let me get too deep

Choke me in the shallow water
Before I get too deep
Choke me in the shallow water
Before I get too deep

Choke me in the shallow water
Before I get too deep
Choke me in the shallow water
Before I get too deep

too deep

too deep

Only a few the proud the enlightened stop to not only look up…they always take a moment’s grace to look down, sideways and around. There is far more in front of us then what meets with the eye.

Pan Handling for America

English: Uncle Sam recruiting poster.

English: Uncle Sam recruiting poster. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Jean Loring in Identity Crisis. Art by Rags Mo...

Jean Loring in Identity Crisis. Art by Rags Morales. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

English: Downtown, Concord, New Hampshire

English: Downtown, Concord, New Hampshire (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

A diminutive awareness is a unsafe thing. Hmmm. Good point! So in other words, being completely obtuse is the way to go. Better to profess a complete lack of knowledge than better one’ self with information, data, poetry, books and what not.
If one were say, papered with a diploma that professes said person had actually risen to the task of adulthood. She received the B and the F and the A…however, did not internalize one sage word or one profound belief. Furthermore, it was encouraged of her to defraud the college system by refusing to give credence to a sexual assault. Later on down the line, that lack of even the tiniest awareness inbred and manifested into a rage on and about sexual deviation, porn, sex toys and violence in the bedroom.
Again, just the smallest bit of lighting at the end of an Ambien laced tunnel may have halted the assaults, perhaps, put a dent in college age binge drinking and shed some distance between raising a child in the turn of current events instead of forcing them to always look over their shoulder for events they had no control over.
Take this now ‘young adult’ pepper her with a bad work ethic, sexual harassment of her co-workers and ask her to defraud the government. I wonder what she would say?
“No, I think I should pose nude only if I’m paying taxes like everyone else!”
Nope, wrong answer…She will continue on her decadently sedated in psychotropic medications way. Her mother who holds her dear…So dear that there is a glimpse of incest without the sex. She will encourage her, only now, and after all these years, to get the Fuck Out of the House!.
With Mother Theresa‘s approval and disownment there is no choice for this childlike adult as there isn’t with many of her generation.
As she will tell you, ‘I don’t know how to live on my own!’
In walks Uncle Sam, AmeriCorps, VISTA, FEMA and out walks a glazed over version of the diminutively unaware America. She now is a paid volunteer, oxymoron! She is now on SNAP benefits. She now is fully covered medically by the U.S. government.

In return for these vast riches that many would give an arm and a child for, the Ambien Annie’s will return home with no badge of courage. They will have not attempted the slightest bit of awareness. For even a little is asking too much. They will invade my hometown, Concord New Hampshire. They will invade your hometown. They have done their duty. They will soon be the middle aged women that insist on making Pan Handling illegal due to the unsightliness of it all. They will work to free city parks and state lands of the homeless for it brings down the value of their fine town.
It all starts with one dose of learning a little wisdom which turns into absorbing a little understanding and in the end, with diminutive awareness there will be one less mistaken identity on the street.

 

Logistically Speaking…I have nowhere to go but down

Artisanally Sharpened Pencil

Dear Mother Theresa and Father Floyd, Auburn Street, Concord NH…that is if you haven’t moved and forgot to let me know:
We have started training and I enjoy it even though the classes are pretty dull and full of common sense stuff; how to sharpen pencils, use a calculator, count without using your fingers…

Unfortunately Tuesday came and it was time to find out our FEMA job and what our new permanent team would be, as well as finding out who our new roommate would be. I was so nervous because some people here are too much to handle and I didn’t want to be stuck with them for 10 months of togetherness. We had a final goodbye dinner… It was a bummer. We all wrote good-bye poems and cards…

We finally gathered for our team.  And,  last night and I got an envelope that had a blue piece of string which meant I am in the Blue unit.  It’s a unit for ‘special’ persons with ‘special’ attention needed.

I then matched my puzzle pieces to my new teammates. We are BLUE 2: Logistics. So my job will be logistics Winchester VA., pushing paperwork for FEMA. The f-ing TEAM I hooked up with sucks…Everyone wants to drink.
I’ve been having a blast. I’m tired, though and took a shit load of meds, but I still made it for open mic night. See I knew I wasn’t an alcoholic.
Love Always, Though I’m not sure what love is-
Ambien/the Annie C Grace

if the church doesn't have to pay taxes why should I? -government employee

if the church doesn’t have to pay taxes why should I?
-government employee

Mishandled and Misrepresented

if it's white collar, I've committed the crime

Some say I look quite a bit like Martha Stewart.

if it’s white collar, I’ve committed the crime 

 

Broads Centre Private Property warning sign

Broads Centre Private Property warning sign (Photo credit: ell brown)

Public nudity? Public intoxication? Defrauding the government? Sex on private property? Use and abuse of illegal substances? Graduated bottom of my class and now working under an alias with alien Barbie‘s for a cause?
The list is endless.
If conformity, habitual lying, crying wolf and taking on other’s personalities put me in segregation from Un-Natural people…prison or day camp for addicts…my parent’s would give a donation to a wing in my honor.
Perhaps, a bronze plague above the tub I used to find myself in whilst in college. Naked, high and on Ambien…
It is hard to know where the next unadulterated violation will occur. Perhaps, bending friendships into misshaped ideas of my rights and their wrongs.
Or, the mishandling and misrepresentation of Beckett Couvillion the third, dog wonder, while he takes a shit on someone’s lawn.
My future is so bright…I have to wear shades and assume the bend over position.
Can’t blame a dyed blonde for trying to be something she’s not…after all it’s the All American White Girl’s Wet Dream.

How to be Gay…the Old Fashion Way

The only thing that stays the same

Shout out to the youngin’s there have been OUT athletes long before Jason Collins.
Arthur Ashe, Billie Jean King.
Back in the day when kids were raised to go play by the open fire hydrant and/or build forts with mud and sticks, there had actually been ‘gay’ children.
Kids of many backgrounds hiding in the shadows of the straight and narrow-minded.
Raised on the gaggle of Catholicism, I learned that ‘Catholics do not start much too late. And, that only the good die young’
My Mother bless her soul watched as I struggled to come to terms with being QUEER by nearly drinking and drugging myself to death.
She glanced on knowing that if she were to intervene and push my indecisiveness too soon, it would be an end to MY ERA of questions and confusion.
There were no rainbow flags and no acronyms for uniqueness. We all unearthed our strangeness through Rita Mae Brown poetry and Indigo colored music.
Crying at night, why am I? Who am I? Who do I cling to? My models of role-playing were earth people; happy, heterosexual and oddly different from the thoughts that lay inside.

English: Snapshot of Billy Jean King during Ir...

Times were rough and they weren’t changin’ when you found difference in between the games of spin the bottle and hide n seek.
I wonder now, where did those rainbow flags come from? The closet doors that so many of my kind insist on closing by hiding behind the GLAM and SHAM of stylishly gay thoughts require me to check my history books.
Hey, kids, we were OUT long before it became the IN thing to do.