Thursday, November 10, 2011

Cleaning My Glasses

I looked at my son the other day and I had a revelation.  It didn't slam into me like I thought it would.  There wasn't a profound ringing of the bells.  It was hardly even a light bulb moment. It was like wiping my glasses off in a steamy bathroom, but still swimming through the residual steam.  There was definitely something different when I looked at him and had a thought.

I looked at him and said, you know, he's me. This little guy is me.  I have the chance to raise him like I should have been raised.  Provide him the emotional support and foundation that I should have been provided.  I will raise my son and in doing so, raise my Little Me in the way that they need.

I told my therapist this and got all misty eyed - both for my son and for Little Me.  I cannot and will not let them down.

Monday, November 7, 2011


I came across the existence of To Train Up Your Child.

I have not read it, however, from the stories, such as this one, and reviews...well it is among other things, infuriating, gut-wrenching, vomit-inducing, nauseating, sadistic, and quite possibly downright evil.  The authors of the book, Michael and Debi Pearl advocate various forms of corporal and demeaning punishment as soon as the child is mobile -- that's about six months old.  The idea is to literally train the child in to the parents' servitude.  But it's ok, they say, corporal punishment is advocated in the Bible.  So it MUST be right!


**I'm not bashing religions, I'm merely emphasizing their justification for this behavior.**

What, Mike and Deb, nothin' to do down there in ol' Tennessee but smack around your kids?  No dogs to do that to?  No horses?  No mules?  What's that?  Oh you did that already?  And it didn't work?  I see, so then, you tried it on your kids, and by golly, it DID work!  Makes sense to me.


So go ahead parents, smack your six month old for crying in the middle of the night when you think s/he shouldn't be.
Knock your two year old around for becoming aware enough of themselves to being to make their own decisions about their surrounds (I want this toy and no one else!).
Muzzle your five year old for being excited in store.
And make sure to fully break the spirit of your 10-12 year old for going through puberty.

Congats, parents that read and implement the strategies in this book, you've successfully transformed your children into little more than dog slaves.

Fucking assholes.

Friday, November 4, 2011


I recently posted a letter that was actually a work in progress and to those that read it, thank you (Judy I read your comment).

I decided that I would remove the letter to continue working on it.

Sorry for the confusion.

The Dark Puzzle

I believe this was a creation of the year 2008. Indicative of my emotional deleriosity? I think so.

Piecing together the puzzle in my mind
The picture is blurry, I’m scared what I’ll find

Rummage, pillage, porous and goo
It’s difficult for me to know what to do
Swimming in that garbled mess
Causes me substantial distress

My heart is crushed, flat, and cold
Now it is nothing, where once it was gold

For again I am a nomad, a seeker once more
But in my mind rages a seemingly endless war
Between what is right, and what is wrong
I want truth, a solution; the soul’s fruitless song

I hide in the shadows of the day
Hoping that these incessant pains will die away
Leaving with me with a numbness I can bear
And hopefully a face I can wear

Where a smile once found its place
Now is tainted, twisted, turned, disgraced
A false happiness is what I see here
One of suppressed burdens and secret fear

So now I wait,
An ambiguous misshapen identity
Wondering who
Or What
Can relieve me of my depreciating pity.