Monday, December 10, 2012

Am I Autistic





 
AM I AUTISTIC

by

Anthonystjoseph


     My first encounter with another human being that was measured by others as lacking or mentally challenged but still able to communicate was when I was a young boy in high school.  I was fourteen years old and had been invited by my good friend Dedra, over to her house for dinner.  Dedra had a crush on me but I only liked Dedra for her mind…  You see, Dedra and I were in a lot of the same advanced high school classes together and her conversational responses to my probing universal questions were always interesting to me.  Upon arriving at Dedra’s house I learned that her world was a lot larger in its understanding, just like mine.

     When I first walked into Dedra’s house I was introduced to her mother who seemed and looked to be older than my grandmother…  Dedra’s mom was a lot older than most of our mothers at that age.  Then I met Dedra’s younger sister who was all smiles and immediately gravitated toward me and could not get enough of studying me very closely indeed.  I decided that she wasn’t going to out study me so I studied her BACK!  It was a contest of wits and I hated to lose contests and she could tell.  At a certain point we started to laugh and then she physically dragged me by the arm over to the piano to show me her ‘skills’ on the keyboard.  Dedra smiled broadly in the background as her sister and I had a blast…  I think Dedra was surprised at my ease with her sister since her sister clearly suffered from Down Syndrome and made some people uncomfortable, but I was having a ball…

     After a while on the piano, as I talked and she talked, I realized she was winning the talking ‘contest’ and ignoring some of my conversation…  Oh no, she will NOT win the ‘refusing to listen war’ with ME!  I went into my wonderful and overflowing treasure chest of battles and used an old skill I developed on my young cousin. Since she wouldn’t listen, neither would I!  She then went to say something and I proceeded to sing nonsensical syllables like, “LALALALALALALA” over her talking.  She stopped mid sentence and stared at me and my ‘LALALALALA’s, and I stopped.  She then went on to say something else and I hit her with it again and louder, “LALALALALA”.  She fell out laughing and couldn’t stop.  I had created a monster because every time I went to talk to her throughout that evening she did it to me, “LALALALALA”.  She won but I had a blast…  Every time somebody else went to talk to her that evening she went, “LALALALALA”. 

     Dedra later told me that her sister suffered from Down Syndrome as a result of her mother giving birth to her at such an old age.  As I said, Dedra’s mother was very old compared to the rest of our mothers…  Who knows if this is the reason, doctors told folks anything in those days and other folks told YOU anything in those days and most folks believed anything in those days, so who knows…

     I left Dedra’s house that evening having met one of the most enjoyable people that I had ever met in my life up to that point…  The fact that she had Down Syndrome didn’t bother or hinder our friendship and bonding and as a matter of fact, it probably helped.  With Dedra’s sister there was no pretense or barriers of decorum.  It was just pure feelings and both of us expressing ourselves truthfully which is why we were able to share and connect.  Neither one of us cared what anyone else thought about us; she, for lack of being mentally confined due to her condition and I because I’m just not programmed that way, or…

     A few years ago I talked to Dedra whom I hadn’t spoken to in over twenty years and the first thing I asked her about was her sister.  I think she told me her sister had passed on but I blocked it out because the girl I met will never die in my mind…  She was the happiest person I had ever met and shared that happy with me because she made me feel that I brought her happiness and that felt good.  It was the most honest laughter I had ever encountered.  I enjoyed her happiness because unlike us, she wasn’t encumbered with report cards, puberty, peers, fitting in or any of the other happiness killers I had to fight off in my youth.

     The valuable lesson I took and learned from Dedra’s sister is that sometimes when someone seems to be out of the loop they’re actually IN THE LOOP!  I learned that sometimes one can be wise to not participate in this foolery we call humanity and maybe a wise genius might check out early or even choose a different ‘modus of operandi’.  Sadly, sometimes that different mode or behavior is chosen for them.  Like most of us, I later learned of autism and that sometimes autistic children ARE actually geniuses.



     Later in my personal education and studies I came across a book by an autistic girl and her mother, titled, ‘A Child Of Eternity’ written by the girl, Adriana Rocha, and her mother Kristi Jorde.  The book was remarkable to say the least and a must read for ANYONE!  Autism hadn’t taken a hold of our current ‘educated’ population by knowledge or numbers so information was rare and often incorrect…  Kristi Jorde was told her daughter Adriana was everything from deaf to retarded before she came to the correct diagnoses of autism.  It was a journey her and her daughter would take together and is well told in the book.  I devoured the book in two sittings and put sleep aside to finish it because it was so good and so enlightening.  I will never forget the first attempt and time Adriana was able to communicate with her mother and she typed the words, ‘I am not stupid’.  That was a WOW moment for me!  The book goes on and ventures into areas not too many minds are able to go but I was on board for the full ride of their adventure and I thank them to this day for living and sharing their life.

     So I am in the library today and I am picking out some movies to watch over the next few days because I love watching movies on DVD from the library because if they aren’t any good you can just return them…  The benefits are that you get to see a lot of good movies that you may not have rented and if you don’t like the movie you don’t lose a dime watching it.  I actually think the aspect of free DVD’s at the library is what is keeping our library system alive…  Sadly, most people you see in the library these days are either there for the free internet and computer usage or getting great movies at the low price of FREE.

     A new release DVD on the shelf at your local library can cause a stampede.  I just watched ‘The Hunger Games’ in it’s opening week of DVD rental for free from my local library;  I saw it on the shelf and almost knocked over a little old lady trying to get to it before that high school kid I had to trip got to it…  What can I say, I’m not always a saint, but neither was Augustus.

     The reason I pose and ask the question as to whether I’m Autistic or not is that I have come to realize that I have no filtering system at ALL!  This seems to be a common attribute in most autistic people…  They have no filter in saying what they are thinking or feeling if they are able to say it or feel it.  They are without fear of being categorized or labeled since they generally don’t comprehend these labels we place on ourselves and others…

     Whenever I go to the library to get movies and the clerk brings out a new cart of returned movies, all of us ‘free movie seekers’ swarm the cart and appear to annoy the clerk…  The clerk is generally always clearly despising us ‘free movie seekers’ as in, ‘Cant you freeloaders WAIT until I put them back on the shelf!’  No we cannot wait, because if we wait then some old grandma or high school kid might see the movie first.  The clerk NEVER comes out and says for us to wait or even openly expresses their feelings; it’s just something that you can feel when you’re perusing ‘their’ cart…  Some have grunted and some have exhaled deeply when I’ve cornered the cart but NONE have ever said anything because that would reveal their humanity…

     So on this day, I quietly enter the library to get some FREE MOVIES and then to my surprise the Library Clerk brings out a new rack of freshly viewed and returned movies…  I salivate as I am the only one in the aisle and the pickings will be fresh.  As the clerk rolls the cart into the aisle, I pounce.  The clerk takes umbrage to my pouncing and starts rubbing his head in an ‘I can’t take these free movie seekers anymore’ manner.  The clerk then starts moaning OUT LOUD as I peruse the rack.  NO FILTERS is in the house.  Then the clerk starts really losing it and moaning more and more and does not seem to be able to bare me looking at the freshly returned movies in HIS rack. 

     When two people with ‘no filters’ meet the results can be wonderful or NOT.  I shucked what little filter I had put on that day in disguise and proceeded to spew…  I said, “Hey, I don’t know what your problem is but we ARE allowed to look at these movies.”  The clerk then rubs his head in a confused and stressful manner and starts to moan again…  I then realize that I have met one of my fellow brethren who is encumbered with Autism.  My heart immediately warms as I realize I was interrupting his task.  You must understand that a task for an autistic person is of utmost importance as it must be completed as ALL tasks MUST be COMPLETED.  A librarian comes up to me and tells me the clerks name and says, “This is Kent, he has autism.” 

     I explained to the librarian that I finally picked up on that as she asks the autistic clerk for a Western Movie and before she finished her request to him for the Western he grabbed a movie off the bottom of his rack and handed it to her and said, “HERE”, and walked off taking his cart and the movies with him to another aisle where him and his cart could be alone and unbothered by ‘free movie seekers’ and needy librarians.  The librarian shares a funny story with me how she watched another librarian ask the autistic clerk for a movie once and the clerk told her, “NO”.  I laughed and remembered the good times I shared with Dedra’s sister.

 
     The encounter with the autistic clerk in the library left me in contemplation of how I myself seem to have no filters in telling friends and strangers alike exactly how I feel at any given moment without regard to how I look or how they will feel about me afterwards.  As I sat at a table in the library, with my laptop and thoughts, the autistic clerk wheels his cart up to the section of CD’s four feet away from me.  The autistic clerk then looks into a reflective surface above the CD rack and starts having a conversation with his image… He says to his own image verbatim, “Now even though Google is a blank page, it can STILL hurt your computer, right, RIGHT!”  Rut row, I talk to myself all the time and definitely answer myself because if I don’t, then who will…  At that point I ask myself, AM I AUTISTIC?

     I GOOGLE autism and find an acronym that basically says I might be.  The acronym is one that describes me in full:  Always Unique Totally Interesting Sometimes Mysterious.  I have always been described as unique when people are being polite.  In high school I was voted ‘most eccentric’.  I’m so totally interesting that I even amuse myself, thank the lord; and when I’m not totally filter free I am sometimes mysterious.  I even talk to myself all the time as my fearless library clerk did. 

     In summation and never intending to make fun of any of my autistic brethren, I feel that I do share and have a lot in common with people who suffer from autism.  I am actually very thankful for the attributes we share.  My life is so much more interesting by not having or being encumbered by all the filters that ‘normal’ people have.  My life is so mysterious since I open myself up to all possibilities and imaginations.  My life is always unique and totally interesting and sometimes completely mysterious.  In regards to having few filters and living a life without too many filters, I will refer to the words of a life lived by Edgar Rice Burroughs who said, “If I had followed my better judgment always, my life would have been a very dull one”.

By

Anthonystjoseph

All works copyrighted  and protected by law

Thursday, December 6, 2012

American Politics


 


AMERICAN POLITICS

by

Anthonystjoseph
 
     So many people are so passionate about American Politics…  The fascination is a good thing as it shows that generally people ARE concerned about making this world a better place.  That’s probably the only good thing that I can say about American Politics.  The American Political systems, like many other political systems around the globe, generally tend to be archaic structures thought of by creatures of old in order to control the public via deceptive measures designed and instituted to sooth and of course deceive the public en masse.

     The main PROBLEM with the American Political System is the same problem with the American Judicial System…  They both are under the false impression that they involve SIDES.  The political system is comprised of the Democratic Side and the Republican Side; the Judicial System is comprised of the Prosecution’s side and the Defense’s side.  Politics and freedom should NOT be a ‘side’ issue when it comes to our fellow man.  Politics is an ‘US’ issue.  FREEDOM most of all should always be an ‘US’ issue.  It’s not our side and their side because it’s never that simple.  There’s a reason The Statue of Justice wears a blindfold in the courtrooms of today and that reason is that even SHE doesn’t want to see the supposed acts of justice that they commit in her name using their ‘sides’ and calling it ‘justice’…  Until they learn, until WE learn that it’s NOT about ‘sides’, and it’s only about ‘US’; were never going to escape this present age of serious darkness and delusion that OUR politics and OUR judicial system are immersed in and represent each and every day.

     It’s not about Democrat and Republican because it’s JUST US.  It’s not about the Prosecution and the Defense because it’s JUST US.  It’s always going to be JUST US no matter how you figure it.  So realize and recognize that we are JUST US and not US and THEM.

By
Anthonystjoseph

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Wednesday, November 21, 2012

The Toilet Seat Revolution

 
 
 

THE TOILET SEAT REVOLUTION

by

Anthonystjoseph
 
     So I had to come out of my skin today and give another show.  And by show, I mean strap on my DMX and tell another mother screwer what his position on this planet was and how it related to mine.  You heard it here first!  So I am out collecting money from my clients in order to again, get to my two comma goal, 1,(comma)000,(comma)000.  I am waiting for one homeowner to call me to come by and pick up a four thousand dollar check and I realize that my voice mail keeps going off with messages.  The first time it happened I just figured it was a signal problem or maybe I was just starting a call or whatever but I didn’t think about it.  Then I realized that my phone, which rings as constantly as Anita rang her bell, was not ringing as often as usual.  So I called my drunk friend in Baltimore, who by the way, is always drunk, to have her call me back and see if my phone was ringing and it was not ringing.  She’s generally too drunk to read my blogs or to hung over to gather the strength to focus on them so I don’t have to worry about her seeing this.  We just got in touch with each other after years of losing track of each other and it’s a shame that she’s still caught up in that getting drunk at the club.  The problem is that the club has moved to her house and is open twenty four seven.  But if she does read this then it’s all good because we were so close in the Army and she was like my little sister and now she’s a hopeless drunk so anything I can do to help is my job.  Maybe she’ll get pissed and drink some coffee. 

     Back to me and me having to come out of my skin, so I call Verizon and have to tell four different computer animated voices my information and last four digits of my social security number while I listen to the computer voices repeat themselves over and over again for my benefit as they continue to explain themselves to me.  For the record, I hate and refuse to talk to any computer and just push zero’s until a voice comes on that can actually take in oxygen and have a true thought.  I WILL NEVER TALK TO A COMPUTER!  Voice activated my ass.  So of course this apprehension of mine to talk to myself over the phone sets the tone for the next ten minutes.  Finally a woman comes on the line and thanks me for calling Verizon…  Phuck you!  She then asks me for the last four digits of my social security number for ‘security reasons’.  SURE!  I’m standing in a line in a grocery store talking on a cell phone which can be scanned with any Radio Shack less-than-a-hundred-dollar scanner…  SURE!  For my security, let me tell YOU my LAST FOUR!  The female dog representing herself as a Verizon customer service representative then realized I had a problem with repeating my information since I told her, “WHY DO YOU ASK ME FOR MY LAST FOUR WHEN I JUST GAVE IT TO THE LAAAASSSST FOOOUUUUUUUURRRRR COMPUTERS!!!!”   I’m not well at this point and the people in line are luckily focused on the drooling senior citizen who is cutting in front of the line while pretending to have alzhiemers.  So the girl on the other end of the phone who works at some Verizon call center decides to get her swerve on.  By swerve I mean neck swerve.  Some of my sisters are so good at swiveling their neck that you can hear that thang swiveling over the phone.  So she decides to go the ‘plucking my nerves’ route and provoke me by asking me for my first and last name and then says, “Is that with an ‘son’ or an ‘sen’…  Get my kids home, get my kids HOME…  Then she asks me for my mailing address with the zip code ‘included’  This wouldn’t be so bad if my phone number didn’t pull up all this information and I hadn’t verified it with the first four computers that I talked to in order to get to her neck swiveling *&^$%#**()(^%$*!  I finally cut her off when she said something about maiden name and just told her, “I NEED MY PHONE TO RING!”  She informed me that I would have to call her from another number and she could do some check on my phone then…  Whatever…  I hung up on her and went to my car and decided to call my client and ask him if he called and deal with Verizon and their raggedy phones later.  He hadn’t called. 

     Then the Lord said, “Let there be light.” A Verizon Wireless store was right in front of me on the other side of the parking lot.  In my haste to get my phone fixed and get back to my money I almost ran over the drooling senior citizen with the faux alzhiemers who was getting into his car to drive home (Jesus take the wheel).  I walk into the Verizon store and decide to have some ‘return-the-favor’ soup.  That’s where they gave me a bad day so I returned-the-favor.

     The first thing I do when I walk in the door is say to the greeter in a loud voice so all the ‘customers’ can hear me is, “CAN YOU GUYS MAKE A PHONE THAT WORKS!”  Clearly I need JESUS!  I went through four of Verizon’s ‘Chocolate’ phones that were reminiscent of the type of flawless technology that brought us the Ford Pinto, and now I have this LG which tends to act like a human female that cycles and gets PMS.  I guess it would be an alien female though because its cycle is more than once a month.  The clerk tries to cut me and my ‘Madea’ moment off and just ask my name and then when I go on he tries to cut me off again and asked my last name.  I pause and skull phuck him for a second letting him know this is no ordinary game and he best be cool and then give him my last name as he tells me to have a ‘look around’ while he gets someone to help me.  I tell him and the whole store that I don’t need to look around, I NEED MY PHONE TO RING!  Yeah I’m special…  You would think since they cut your hair off in jail here in Colorado that I would chill out and keep my DMX under wraps, but not me.  My special like DMX’s special is uncontrollable.   I blame it all on God because he made me.  It’s my story and I’m sticking to IT!  So this guy standing next to the snippy greeter takes me to the tech counter and starts fiddling with my phone.  I tell him to call it from the counter phone and so he does and it doesn’t ring.  He fiddles and fiddles and fusses and fusses and I squirm and squirm.  All I can think about is missing my money calls.  Here comes the climax. 

     The on hand technical support ‘piece of flesh’ standing in front of me for Verizon turns my phone off and then turns it back on and it works, it rings.  The same thing I told my friend in New York to do to on his phone the other day but forgot in my squirming over the potential loss of the money calls.  I retrieve my phone and turn to walk out the store and that’s when he did it.  You know that way somebody can tell you ‘thank you’ but it’s clearly a ‘phuck you’.  Yeah!  Um huh…  He said to the back of my head, “YOU’RE WELCOME!”  OMG!  WTF!  I guess he didn’t get the MEMO!  They got my poster up in some cities!  Ya’ll think I’m kidding on this whole DMX thang…  I turned as he said it and was basically standing in the center of the store at this point and said to him in my loud commanding voice that stopped everyone in the store in their tracks as everyone turned to look at me and said, “If you sold phones that worked I WOULD BE WELCOME!”  (My phone is three months old and the last four phones before that all malfunctioned and had to be replaced).  He wasn’t ready for the response, or the nature of my response; as in him and I occupying a stage with all these people watching mouth agape.  He let out another little squeaky, “you’re welcome”.  I repeated myself and the lack of any welcome feelings on my part and then told him across the room, “Do WE NEED TO DO MORE!  Because we CAN!”  He lost.  Why did he lose?  Because everybody’s playing a game.  I am not playing games…  Don’t have me talk to four different computers like I have time to waste and then have me repeat myself over your glorified walkie talkie in order to get your Made in China phone to work properly.  My phone cost three hundred dollars so it should provide more than three months service without malfunctioning. 

     Since I’m talking about malfunctioning systems I would like to bring up the toilet seat and the proper etiquette surrounding it!  The ‘all about you’ party is over females.  From this point on I am the chairman and founder of the Revolution de Toilet Seat.  I have personally trained the females in my family including my own mother that toilet seats shall remain up when not in use and now it’s time for you to train your females.  The men in my office are so whipped that they put the toilet seat down in the men’s restroom.  WTF!  I have to PEE!  I do not have time to bend down and touch some nasty toilet seat that has probably been pissed on because someone left it down, or should I say put it down because they were taught to do so by some selfish female.  Probably their MAMA!  Train yours ~ I trained MINE!

     All kidding aside, I would like to present my argument for the whole world to learn the proper and obviously correct way to leave a toilet seat when finished.  First off, it is obviously a lot more hygienic to leave the seat UP.  If the seat is up then the air in the toilet bowl will be fresh and not contribute to the growth of bacteria and germs.  Secondly, when the seat is down it allows for the possibility of flies to land on the seat and take a shit right where you’re going to lay your raw behind when eliminating your daily intake.  Did you know that every time a fly lands they take a dump.  Leave the seat up BABIES!  It’s just nasty to leave it down.  And women, we let you vote so now let us vote ~ the seat stays up.  You had your time!  Thank you!  You’re Welcome!  They said I would make a good leader.

By

Anthonystjoseph

All works copyrighted  and protected by law

Monday, November 19, 2012

Placid People


 
 

PLACID PEOPLE

by

Anthonystjoseph
 

     I cannot believe what I witnessed today.  I decided to stop into McDonald’s to get my daily supplemental dose of extra diabetic inducing sugar which they call ‘Sweet Tea’, and walked into a modern day version of the High School ‘Shawshank Redemption’…

     I get out of my car and realize that around twenty junior high school students are plowing out of the door towards my car, which I consider sacred, and are seriously threatening to put some scratches on my baby.  My sensors immediately perked up and all systems were go and operational in the ‘protecting my shit’ mode…  My ‘protecting my shit’ mode can cause problems for all parties involved, including myself, which is why I hate when I am forced to invoke that particular mode.  It’s my nature, as the Scorpion said. 

     I proceeded to part the crowd of teenagers as Moses parted the Red Sea and entered the McDonalds.  I turned to look back at my vehicle while sending a psychic force field to envelope it so the ‘protecting my shit’ mode didn’t get taken to level TWO which is so ugly it can sometimes lead to jail time…  At this point the manager of the McDonald’s walks past me yelling into a cell phone, “I need the police here right away, they are fighting here in the McDonald’s”…  At this point, I pull back on the energy draining force field that I am enveloping my car with, and take a good look at this unruly group of kids surrounding it. 

     In studying the group of kids, I realize that one of them is puffing up and putting out the message that he’s about to jump on someone who’s coming out the door.  I say to the manager, “Are the police coming?”  She says yes.  I go to the bathroom to get rid of the earlier dose of diabetic giving sweet tea and decide the police will handle it.

     I later come out of the bathroom and there are still kids everywhere but there is no fight that I can see.  I order my syrup, I mean sweet tea, and wait to receive it.  I glance around the McDonald’s enjoying my usual art of people watching and catch a glance of the ‘puffin-his-chest’ kid in the front door of the restaurant puffing his chest on some small boy.  The puffer is about thirteen and the puffee is about twelve.  I then witness as all these people eat, including many adults, this puffer just PUNCH this other kid in the face like it was John Cena defending his pregnant wife from gangsters in a bad action movie.  He then PUNCHES HIM AGAIN!  And AGAIN!  I say to the manager again, “DID YOU CALL THE POLICE!”

     The little kid is just taking it as the puffer talks trash to him in between giving him brain damaging blows.  At this point, I can’t take it anymore; so I walk to the front of the restaurant and open the door and part the seas again.  I tell the kid who’s getting pummeled, “YOU!  You COME IN HERE!”  He doesn’t want the crowd to think he’s a wimp so he’s hesitant.  The bully tells him, “YEAH, you go in there!”  The kid says, “No, I’m not going to go in there.”  I then yell at him, “YOU’RE JUST GOING TO LET HIM HIT YOU!”  He says, “No, I don’t want him to hit me.”  Then it got CRAZY!

     I have to tell you that I was visiting a client who lives in a largely Hispanic Neighborhood and all these kids were of a Hispanic origin.  So after the kid refuses the shelter of safety, the bully, who’s Hispanic also, tells the younger kid to ‘GO BACK TO MEXICO!’ ~ Lord help me…  We do it to our own people ALL THE TIME!  Consuming the idea and concept of this young Hispanic Male telling another Hispanic kid to ‘go back to Mexico’ is so sad and will probably haunt this bully for the rest of his life if he ever becomes a real man with any thought or feeling for his fellow man.  The crowd breaks up as the crazy black man from the moon, ME, walks away ~ mission accomplished.  I go to the counter to get my diabetic inducing ‘sweet tea’ which will hopefully give ME diabetes and encourage my departure from this third rock from the sun and its crazy mess.  I first got angry and then suddenly I got very sad to the point of ‘almost tears’.  I could not believe the stupidity that I was witnessing on all fronts… 

     Out of all the people in that restaurant, nobody but me was willing to protect this young man from life changing memories that were no part of good or GOD!  I got my tea and just could not get over the fact that the COPS never came…  This is a neighborhood where the cops are every three blocks harassing everyone and anyone because they can in that neighborhood…  But when this kid needed them, they were NO PLACE in SIGHT!

     I was so angry at all these ADULTS who just didn’t care that it was going on that right after I walked out with my TEA, I turned around and walked BACK in the RESTAURANT to COUNT the adults that were sitting and eating and just didn’t CARE about this kid being BEAT!  There were TWENTY ADULTS sitting down EATING and they could care less about prolonging a bite of their BIG MAC to protect and stop the brutality on this KID!  THESE are what I refer to as the ‘PLACID PEOPLE’, the PEOPLE I DETEST!  When are we going to stop being so politically correct and so SCARED to STAND OUT and START DOING WHAT’S RIGHT!  WHEN!  WHEN!  CAN YOU TELL ME WHEN!

     As I left the McDonald’s, after checking my car and my tires for slash marks from the angry bully, I got TWO BLOCKS away and saw the POLICE STATION!  I guess they were having a ‘PLACID PEOPLE’ convention as well…

by

Anthonystjoseph

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Thursday, November 15, 2012

A Ring From A Swan


 
 

A RING FROM A SWAN

by

Anthonystjoseph
 

     Aside from a swan being one of the most beautiful creatures on this earth, it is also one of the most moral as well.  The swan is one of the species from the animal kingdom that is monogamous.  Like the dolphin and the raven, the swan only mates once in life.  If something such as illness, capture, or death decides to take their mate away they go on to die alone and never pair up again in their lifetimes.  They say when humans do something that is barbaric that they are acting like an animal.  I think we have that backwards.  If you really dissect what’s going on around this planet you would have to say that we are the beast! 

     We lie for no reason.  We take for no reason. We even kill for no reason.  We will sleep with anything and anyone as long as it pleasures our intricate and barbaric needs.  I have seen some sexual deviants behave in such a manner, in photographs of course, that made me realize that I was looking at an ANIMAL; a simple human animal that puts ‘so called’ beastly behavior to shame.  You have to understand that if earth doesn’t live out its natural lifespan it will be due to its destruction by the human animal.  This is why one is attracted to the high moral ground of a swan, a dolphin, or even the hauntingly suspicious life of the dark raven. 

     I can’t imagine the wonderful and selfish life of knowing that your mate only lives for you.  The life of knowing that your mate has to listen to every ache and pain and moan and whistle and just TAKE IT!  They aren’t going anywhere…  They can’t…  Look at it this way:  Imagine someone who loves you so much for who you are to them that they will take you however you come and however you go.  Imagine the comfort of knowing that you will never be alone pinning over your mate on the other side of the pond rubbing up on some other bird.  Sounds like heaven.  Sounds like civilization. 

     Well this story is about a swan, a human swan.  I must remind you though.  All my stories are true.  This is a story about a boy.  About a boy who is a man who is a boy.  Why is he a boy?  He’s a boy because he has never been allowed to grow up to be a man.  The reason the man is still a boy who is a man is because if the boy were to grow up to be a man than he would be a gay man.  So the man remained a boy who was a man for a very long time.  The man remained a boy for over thirty years, almost forty.  The man living as a boy became very sad and couldn’t live the life of the boy any longer.  The boy becoming a man took to his shell in order to break free.

     The man as a boy refused to take a call.  The calls kept coming and the denials started falling.  Enter the swan.  The swan had given birth to the boy living as a man and wanted to know what was wrong.  The boy crumbled in front of the swan and started to convulse in tears.  The swan was loss for words and couldn’t bare the pain her boy was in.  She pleaded with the boy to tell her what was wrong.  The boy convulsed harder and more tears flowed.  The swan took a guess and let it be known that she knew her boy.  The swan asked her boy if he was gay.  He fell into a heap in torrential tears…  The swan cried as well explaining that it was all okay.  The boy becoming a man said, “Well if it’s okay then why are you crying?”  After a moment, the swan explained, “I’m crying because I can’t believe you’ve lived so long and haven’t been who you are.”  She was crying because her boy had lived as a boy too long and she knew it.  The boy who was a man who lived as a boy is now a man.

     The man who was a boy explained to his swan of a mother, “I just didn’t think you would love me if you knew who I was.  You’ve always expected so much from me since I was the oldest son.  I was scared you wouldn’t love me.”  The swan looked down at her wedding ring from the male human who had left her.  She was still wearing the ring because she knew that it was only ‘once’ for her when it came to love.  She looked at the ring that she had dreamed of getting every since she was a small girl.  She continued to look at the wedding ring on her finger that she knew she would die with.  She looked at the ring that she knew she would be buried with.  She looked at her son, the man.

     She took the ring off her finger and looked strongly at her son, the man.  She looked him in the eye and grabbed his hand and put her symbol of love, the ring, on his pinky finger and told him this.  She said, “As long as you live I want you to wear this ring, and whenever you feel like no one loves you, you LOOK AT THIS RING AND KNOW THAT I LOVE YOU!”  They cried some more.  He has never taken off the ring to this day.  The boy hidden in the man who lived as a boy who was a man was now a MAN!

By

Anthonystjoseph

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Wednesday, October 24, 2012

THE DENTS


 

THE DENTS

by

Anthonstjoseph
 

     One can say that the use of language is an art form if one is truly into the crafting of the ‘word’.  The truth of the matter is that any communication in itself no matter what form or fashion it comes in is an art form.  Well one of my favorite tools in the language department of communication is the analogy.  The analogy is one of the most useful tools because it can aid a teacher and a student in seeing into the core of a debate through the other’s eyes.  In speaking to a friend the other day I had to explain that you had to learn to deal with the dents that life is going to send your way.  Because no matter how well you take care of your ‘car’, after many years there is bound to be a dent or two and many more scratches from the close calls and runaway grocery carts. 

     The trick in this game is to learn to keep the engine running properly with the best ‘oil’ used in your oil changes and learn how to smooth over the ‘dents’ and keep the car looking good.  One must always remember though, some folks like cars that look good with no dents, some folks like cars that run well and are reliable, and then some are always searching for both.  Which one are you?

by

Anthonystjoseph

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Saturday, October 13, 2012

Charlie


 

CHARLIE

By

Anthonystjoseph


          On this day, a previous lesson was learned, I should say viewed, in its entirety.

     Charlie, a dog, had carried a rock into the house and was playing with it.  The rock landed on a heating vent in the floor and this totally dismayed Charlie.  I was immediately intrigued by the fact that Charlie recognized he was in a quandary.  He was circling the vent and intensely eyeing the rock.  I realized he had lost previous favorite rocks down this vent and was intent on not losing this one.   The task was on. 

     He pawed at the carpet making sure to not in any way touch the vent and send this rock where the others went; down the vent and away from him and his fun.  He circled the vent several more times eyeballing the rock and letting out that moan that all dogs do when they pray to their God.  Then, as casually and as delicately as possible he licked the rock with his tongue and then paused to wait and see the results of the lick.  The lick moved the rock slightly closer to the carpet but didn’t cause it to go down the vent.  Partial success achieved.  He licked and backed away, he paused, he licked and backed away, and he paused again.  He circled the vent again.  He then licked and paused, and then licked and paused.  He circles, he licks.  The rock is suddenly on the carpet and again available for play.  Charlie is overjoyed and has accomplished a victory. 

     The thought had occurred to me in the beginning to get the rock for him ~ me knowing how ~ myself in this case being the higher sentient realized the fun he was having.  The fun he was having of learning something new and the grasp of the all needed sense of accomplishment.  So I, as THEY, let HIM struggle, let HIM live, and let HIM learn.  Had I got the rock for him, his growth would be stunted.  He would be unable, at that point, to get rocks on his own until I was gone and he would be forced to learn at that time, and coincidentally back on course, but behind.  I watched as THEY watch.  I enjoyed as THEY enjoy.  I too was happy as HE achieved HIS prize as THEY are happy when WE achieve OURS.

By

Anthonystjoseph

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Friday, September 28, 2012

God is Good


 

 
God Is Good

by

Anthonystjoseph


     God is good.  Yesterday he was great.  The day before he was even better, and then there was that one day when he was awesome.  I do remember that one day were I felt he wasn’t even there though.  And then there was that time that I just KNEW he wasn’t there.  But I always remember that day when I first knew he was there…  That day was a wonderful revelation of truth.  Then again, there was that day.  I’ll also never forget that other day.  And that day too…  Lord have mercy, that one day.  But he was never better than that day.  And I’ll never forget that other day either.  But like I said, that one day…  I really want to forget that other day though…  Oh, but thank you Lord for that particular day.  That day was almost worth it all.

     Come to think of it, he might be what I call ‘a little moody’. 

     He might just be preoccupied. 

     He might be trying to teach me to do this myself

     God is good…   Good at what he does.

by

Anthonystjoseph

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