A Female Meander Thru International Women’s Day

In the wee hours of another sleepless in Alfombra night, I decided to block an individual who volunteers his efforts to operate a netizen news page on Fedbook. His posts are helpful in understanding the recurring madness of MENA during these bleeding times.

What was unacceptable (by me) from this short term cyber friendship was his personal chats stepped over a boundary. He began to envision me as his next whatever. He even went so far as to admit he needed a wife with money. Was this bullying – disguised within a Trojan horse news junkie? Him, not me.

Okay, there were a barrage of cultural differences. Yet I am tolerant and attempt to be empathetic, up to a tipping of my kayak paddling a gunky river of knowledge. When any person steps over my redline in the swirling waters it is incumbent upon me, as a woman with ethics and self-esteem, to say, Bloody, stop bumping my bow! 

Mixed messages and double messages are outpourings from human beings lost from themselves even if they pray five times a day, or prefer to slug down vodka? My sense was this Jordanian man’s praying was automaton as how could he be so overt in his private comments centered on ‘thinging’ me. I am not simple nor a vessel in waiting. I am an intricate woman who seeks freedom and justice for all living things, and Earth, too. Hopefully, I conduct myself not as a female lure or a sexy carrot to entice nut jobs. 

After slogging through several lifetimes I submit this un-sage chunk of Earth-bound perspective = if you are using feminine or masculine wiles to make a person, a manifesto, or a country captive you are messed up. 

Something significant to our well being is seriously missing in 2014? There is a grand human species-saving necessity to be egalitarian and free. We only put the greedy friggin’ ruling bastards out of business if we work in solidarity with informed intelligence. Any act that is less than so is another wretch of the dysfunctional arcane paradigm of us vs. them. 

Dividing us amongst ourselves is a core premise to keeping slaves toting the bales for the empire. Civil disorder, be it operating in Egypt, Ukraine, stoned Denver, surfer dude Dominical, or drug-riddled anywhere, is how the elite sustain control. Jailed in an on-going social political malaise our species is way more malleable when whacked out, emotionally screwed up, hungry, thirsty, and disconnected from life by chasing one’s tail. This rank recipe is eons old. It is not borderless true love, even if showered in rose petals and cutesy memes. 

Somedays, I imagine God shaking his/her eternal head and wondering, “How much longer my gladiator people?”

If you are desperate for female companionship swooping over my intersection of birding and current events is a wasted effort on your part. The human experiment in social media is like the flamenco – a dance of movement and then pause, repeated incessantly until the music stops. If my metaphor has no meaning to you, then I rest my case.

How we treat each other acted out in daily communications is the mettle of our evolution. If we say in a public voice we are trying to bring factual awareness to the world and in the next private statement attempt to inappropriately seduce is this not the crux of what ails humanity? Today’s mass unconsciousness fixation with species annihilation by being asleep to our own motives is killing us, and Pachamama. As in, doing one thing, yet saying another, and vice a versa. 

Schizoids are attracted to social media as it perfectly fits their personality disorder of sabotaging social relationships (fear of intimacy, fear of success), fostering solitary lifestyles, and feeding apathy. My prediction amongst my shrink circles is this dis-ease will only become more rampant as time passes in the matrix. The concept of digital detox surfaces even on The Huff Post. 

To those who purport to riding the latest trend in consciousness raising yet abdicate by living in your cosmic bubbles, you in fact contribute to the dismissal of freedom by being absent.

Aides to POTUS, Kerry, Putin (doubt he has any), and El Sisi are you listening in any regard to the winging beat of actualized free-thinking women? 

For the reality-record, Mrs. Clinton can go on and on about empowering women, yet I have witnessed this clog in the oppressing wheel of the empire. This war mongering entity is nowhere close to lighting the female way of peace and freedom. A puppet driven by ego maintained by fattening offshore bank accounts is the last type of world leader we need during the 59th minute. The half-black guy propped up on the global stage talks a great game yet does the biding of his mega national masters. Hillary without black face is one more PR reinvented Manchurian candidate. I was a Democratic Committeewoman for decades.

It saddens and irks me to realize how frozen in contemporary time we are as regards men are from Mars, and women are from Venus. 

I wish I could read the name of the artist on the art work (see above). I am the feathers in this painting, neither the equine, nor the warrior.


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