The bus driver objected to my carrying a “pet caddy” with kittens on board.

What did he expect from me, unquestioned compliance? I fight for my right for transportation, I will not comply with that
(nazi)
man’s ridiculous wish to make me get off his bus and what? Hitchhike? Is that what is preferable to that
(despicable) man? He’d rather leave me stranded with my kittens. He went so far as to call a cop on me. I had the indignity of riding in the back of a police car to the bus stop at Park Royal. My “crime” was wanting to take my kittens to the Vancouver SPCA to have their first shots. The reason for the long trip is because the Sunshine Coast vets charge at least twice as much. The cop had a hard time understanding that fact. He probably never had to be poor. When you’re rich, life is easier because you get the respect that goes with being well off.

A message I saw printed on a shirt in a shop window: Speak up against authority For those that can’t be heard.

I question the meaning of this morning’s mishap with the jerk bus driver:
1) I just happened upon the freakishly law abiding-to-the-extreme bus driver.
2) I also happen to be in an emotional body and my moods are at an unstable stage.

The kittens ended up being in this box for a lot longer than I planned.

Had I not freaked at the
(stubborn jerk)
bus driver, I would have been stranded at Horseshoe Bay for at least an hour before the next bus.

The past month or so (or is it 5 or 6 months) I’ve been feeling more neurotic and “realistically challenged”. My emotions include anger and anxiety. Am I pitying myself? Feeling sorry for my sorry ass?

I still don’t like myself. I still think I make stupid decisions, like insisting on a slave wage fast food job, like sticking around for that art gallery venture, like taking in a basket case dog that gets worse, like letting myself get pregnant . . . Those are things most people consider venerable and good.
Why can’t I be happy with what I’ve got? Is it because I never got what I wanted in the first place?
I hate this world that our predecessors created. This rotten system that prevents the likes of me to ever get what we need. I am too intelligent to let my “sanity” go in a way that social workers would recognize because all they seem to know is alcoholism or heavy drug use or severe schizophrenia or psychosis . . .

If someone says that being rich and oppressed and being poor and oppressed are the same thing, that person’s full of crap.
When you’re poor, the oppression is a whole socio-political system whereas when you’re rich, the only thing oppressing you is yourself, because you can do almost anything you want when you have the financial resources; if you have a job that pays a decent wage and could go to the bank for a loan to build a house.
I feel like such a loser. I had to fight for a stupid job that didn’t think I was capable the first time.

We hate men in suit and ties because they are full of lies.
They have stolen from our future
they come from a death culture.

I mentioned I was dissatisfied. With myself. Am I dissatisfied with my life? I want to accomplish things, to create artwork. My stupid job uses up 70% of my time. Once again, what I really want gets put on the back burner.
I want to change the world around me because I know that my wishes are the same as a lot of other people’s; but how can I effect a change or anything if I can’t seem to even be a good mom.

I think I’m angrier now than when I was in East Van.
I feel completely fckd up. Are there people like me? . . . are there other people that don’t get noticed? People that are fckd up inside but nobody notices?
It feels like I’m slowly dying. I want to do art but I just can’t motivate myself to either: a) walk over to the studio or
b) clean up the kitchen table and look for my drawing stuff.
I just don’t have the mental energy.
I don’t like kids and I get stuck surrounded by the kind I like least: fighting boys.
The only thing I’ve never hated is art and animals.
The only thing I’ve always hated is the way so many people conduct themselves in a harmful way. Usually, in my experience, they were male, but plenty of girls are really mean, mostly psychologically; boys hit and throw, and some, like my brother, hit the psyche and the body.
I could never show my screwed-upness because I was (is) too shy and I live in a society that does not befit me.
Am I suffering from cultural stress? Wouldn’t that make me psychotic?

Me: “I want to stay on welfare so I can do my artwork in peace.”
Suit: “why should you get to freeload?”
Me: “I’m not freeloading. I need the support until I’m recognized.”
Suit: “we all have to work for a living, we all have to give up our hobbies.”
Me: “that’s just it, art is not and never was a hobby to me. Why is it so hard to explain?”
Suit: “I can’t understand why you’re never happy”

Back in the day when people used symbols to translate an idea . . .

The net/weave of atoms that make up our physical world; the web of awareness that our consciousnesses weave through friendships, communication devices and spirituality; the web of life that organisms create by producing and consuming. Around all the webs are the interminable circle of time.
The practical use of these powerful symbols, besides being esthetically pleasing, is to filter out from the etheric realm the negative and unpleasant energies that would cause one to have self-doubt and/or bad dreams.

My soul likes to celebrate beauty and bounty with four staffs.

Crossed by the Emperor who has too many rules that thwart my needs.

I used to be with two sisters who’d celebrate with me with our three cups.

The strength of taming a lion still lies in the future.

I want to enjoy my nine “fruits of labour”, a quiet yard to grow a garden.

I’ve got kids running around, reminding me of my past, sharing six cups.

I wait for my turn like a page of swords.

I’m surrounded by word games like a knight of wands.

I hope for success and fear contributing to the welfare state as I share six pieces.

The outcome is that I’m still on the right track because I’m an ace at what I do.

“A supportive sisterhood might help with my goal of achieving bounty for all.”

Why am I so concerned with these symbols?
Because changing the meanings of these symbols has to do with changing culture.

dear mom,
I’d like to say, “I’m sorry I’m not the way you would have wanted me to be” but why should I feel bad about myself?
Frankly, I’m tired of being told that I look like shit without even an introductory “hello, nice to see you”. You choose to criticize . . . always criticizing me. Maybe you’re not proud of your mothering skills. I’m not proud of myself but I don’t bug my son about inconsequential things like clothes.
I choose to retreat within my only sanctum, home, because I need to heal. I thought I worked out my past by writing it all down, but a simple journal isn’t enough. I thought I was strong enough to not need external support but my internal acceptance isn’t enough.
I cannot seek external guidance because the structure of our culture is based on lies. I seek True people but they are just as fckd up as I am.
I choose to retreat because I need to gather my wits or strength.
In order to be strong, I need to be grounded.
To be properly grounded, I need to be away from all that angers me and reminds me of my shortcomings.

My shortcomings are the same as the Earth’s, the connection between my shortcomings and the Earth’s has to do with not being taken seriously; the people that believe in the “establishment” and support the wholesale destruction of natural Life, from spiritual (ministries), to intellectual (public schools), to emotional (be tough, don’t cry), to cultural (nike, pepsi). All that support goes towards the destruction of healthy living Earth, and most of those people are the ones that don’t notice my artwork or laugh at my insights.
Our culture, our people are living a lie and I can’t live like that. A lot of folks can’t, that’s why they destroy themselves in various ways. I want to destroy my body so my soul can soar but that would be a lie too, because I have a job to do before I die. My job is to remind people of what’s really important . . . I need to retreat, away from the cacophony of humans, so that I may have a clearer vision of my task.

“People need to be reminded of what’s real”
I don’t mean white folks adopting pure Native traditions, I mean that they need to remember that the Spirit is worth more than anything material; that is what the world needs to remember.
White people have as much of a culture to reclaim as the aborigines. In fact, there’s a lot of white people who seem to emulate some kind of native style but there is no “accepted” form because everyone thinks that European people already have a culture; but they don’t, it’s just a money cult, a material cult.
I want a spiritual culture where people can realize their potential. A culture where people have learned to differentiate between corporate disposableness and true personal craftsmanship. The difference is that something bought from the artisans themselves puts money directly back into the local economy.
There’s got to be a way to connect people’s material needs and their needs for spirituality.

The Tribal culture needs to be revitalized. People who buy into the corporate way must realize where their money goes. It goes into a large machine, a machine touted in the Bible as a multiple headed monster. A machine unconsciously put together by people who are conscious of current “issues” but feel powerless to effect a change.
Evolution of that ugly machine: roman empire, inquisition, industrial revolution, third reich-CIA-politics-corporations.

Picture the Internet as a mass of fibers joined by three monsters. The three monsters need the energy supplied by the fine and intricate capillaries, but the individual fibers don’t need the monsters; in fact, without the dominion of the monsters, the fibers would have the freedom the coalesce into a more organic form, enabling the Internet to take on the form of a tree of life.

If I get a computer, I’ll help change the world because I’m here to communicate, that’s why I’m an artist, to translate what people need to remember. Communication was my aptitude score in high school and I thought it was kind of vague. I understand now, I stand under the tree of knowledge. I have to communicate but am too shy and antisocial. I need the anonymity. I don’t know why, call it the underdog syndrome. No one must know these bright ideas are from me. Because most of them wouldn’t take me seriously if they met me.

I found moccasin kind of shoes with nice beadwork. Dream - July 8

I saw a leather handbag embossed with Celtic patterns and three fringes.

There was a Virgo that got poked and prodded by two Sagittariuses and a Libra who couldn’t make up his mind so he never did anything. . .

Virgos like perfection and harmony and are already self-critical. Having a Sagittarius mother and older brother made her life a little unbearable. They poked and pierced the young Virgo with their arrows of criticism. They encouraged the growth of self-doubt within her; just like the unchanging and ever present sun and wind reminded her soul to also keep growing.

Luxury:
• Makes you want more
  
• Makes you out of shape
  
• Makes you crazy
• Makes you forget

Bible story - about Lot and his warning from the angels . . .

There are those that feel compelled to leave a given area, unknowing of the impending doom of the place they are “evacuating” from.
There are those that do know their reasons for fleeing, either by dreams or noticing certain events and divining their outcome.
There are some people that actually get visited by “strangers” that warn them of the end of that world so, run! Run to the hills! Grab your loved ones and save yourselves!
Are they angels? Are they modern “prophets”?
Some people think they’re nut cases.
It’s mostly the suit and tie kind of people, money culture people, that generally disbelieve the rantings of a supposed lunatic.
How interesting. . .

One of the most common “divine intervention” type experiences is. . . damn. I forgot what it was. One moment I had it, then, by the time I got up and sat down in the kitchen and thought about how to start it, the idea became nebulous and I couldn’t put my finger on it anymore.
It had something to do with people meeting. You know how certain people you meet say the darnest things that re-affirms or coincides with your own events.
Petting my cat right now reminded me what it was. . .

A lesser common divine experience is the vision an individual
(in-divi-dual = in divine duality) receives. Most people would call it a message from the angels or God.

Even lesser common is when a whole group of people receive the same message.

This physical body is limiting; but how do I know that a spirit is any freer? There’s lots of stories of spirits that pine for that which they no longer possess, physical sensations, hearing bird song, tasting delectability, feeling sensuous pleasure, especially the sense of touch.
Spirits just are. A spirit that is satisfied just to be is someone who’s accomplished what they set out to do. If you don’t feel like you have to do anything and there’s nothing to do, then it’s easy to be happy just to be.
I feel like it’s too late, like the last ten years were supposed to build up; but I feel like I’m in the same spot I was ten years ago. The only difference is I’ve got an extra ten years’ worth of memories and a six year old kid with a seven year marriage. I wish there were more men like my husband, there wouldn’t be so much bad karma to worry about.
I was put here to help put things right. Why am I in such an unimpressive package?
I want to write about good stuff but I end up writing about things that suck.
I want to eradicate unhealthy practices. I want the money - political - corporate system to be dismantled and handed back to the people. I want our current culture to turn back to Earth teachings.
There used to be a need for secrecy in all this good because of the med-evil empire’s need to squash anything pure and light.
Even ancient shamans used to keep their secrets so they would have “power” over the village.

If I want this world to have more free-thinkers, then why do most of them that I’ve met or heard about anger me with their myopia? It’s mostly men and their habit of belittling others to their own stupid advantage.
The condescending snobbery that frequently occurs amongst “enlightened” crowds. There’s pontification of diet, environment and spirituality. The dark Gothic types that like to think they know more than others about esoteric metaphysics, the Native that snubs any white person’s spirituality, those that join environmental groups and get all gung ho about it. . . like trees. Some people go completely anti-logging in favor of the great hemp hero. Hemp’s good, but so are trees. Corporate hemp would be just as bad as corporate trees. As long as the evil empire exists, I will find fault in its limitations.
It feels like I’m just repeating myself.
Probably because I am. I’ve been writing about the same crap since my kid was born. It’s always the same issue, how our society sucks because of thoughtlessness, lack of reverence for nature. The same issue: my personal shitty experiences and the Earth’s shitty experiences and other people’s shitty experiences.
My own son being a typical butthead boy. Neighbors that don’t talk to us unless they have to because it’s usually about our son. I feel like I deserve better. Don’t I deserve to live in a culture that suits me? All I want is for people to not be so mean and to not be so lazy about pollution. I want our society to make it so that people like me, with no rich relatives or spouses, with no real “identity”, to be able to get a job and buy a house. Either have cheap houses to go with the cheap Mc jobs or everyone get highly paid to afford the overpriced investments disguised as shelter.
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