'ARTS NOT FARTS"

This story was written to create a scenario of life that is not perfect, but my glass is half full. This story is written as a reflection of how gaslighting folks is not cool. I did not write it out of anger or fear or hate, I wrote it out of love for humanity. I author stories, create songs to hopefully help someone along the way. I worked in nursing off and on in my life from 1969 to 2000. At the same time, I was taking care of people, I was attending college in Business, Journalism, and art.

As a society we are living through some tough times. After this rant of whatever I am okay! It's all about everyone else, not me.

ART NOT FARTS

IS DEDICATED to all folks who have gas lit me and other people this week!

IT IS NOT ALL ABOUT ME!

This is a story about other people who were gaslit this week too. When I feel these thoughts and actions that the same scenario happened to other folks in a different town. That is life!

I write about a lot of stuff. I am not anyone’s competition. I am an empath and psychic dreamer. My gifts such as these and my ability to talk with spirits and my theory and experiences with those things and an alternate universe causes some folks to think I do not have my feet on the ground. I have my feet right where I want them. If I listen to naysayers I would roll over and die, because I need to create.

I know when one reads my stories, listens to my music, they are ready to judge. Telling stories as an elder is not important as their gaslighting intimidates me to shut up or get a job. The persons of this status are pointing at me as a vulnerable disabled old lady to mess with on occasion to prevent me from creating and put me in a job in retail. I mention retail because that is the easiest job to get. Then when I toss out my music, art & writing they glorify with their own party after eliminating me as an artist. I am no one’s competition. Also, all the stories I write are not all about me, nor have they ever been all about me. Some folks take it that way. I am your elder but, I need to be a meanie, intimidate, humiliate, and die. I have written about my experiences and other experiences.

IT IS NOT ALL ABOUT ME! IT NEVER WAS! MY NURSING YEARS WERE THERE AND I DO CARE. I worked in nursing to help pay for my college and bills!

BUT NOW I HAVE PULLED OUT my POETRY From my teenage years and published them.

It is not all about me! It is about helping people day by day. I have always been interested in the humane side of journalism. However, I heard that people wanted me to shut up and write about how sweet everything is. They say do not mention politics. Write about candy and popcorn.

When I do get my retail job to please everyone, there will be a celebration eliminating a 75-year-old from being your competition. The job will make everyone happy as at 75 I need to prove how strong I am and if I die, I was going to die anyway. I have 3rd stage kidney disease, parathyroid disease, and high blood pressure. I am okay, are you okay? Since I wrote this last year, I found out I do not have parathyroid disease after large doses of Vitamin D. My kidney is now in stage one. I do have two large fractures and several small fractures in my spine. There will be no retail work.

Gas lighters will celebrate when I croak. I will be a ghost to your party!

My creations are about you and you guys and you all to relate that life is not a bowl of cherries but is bittersweet with fear, laughter, tears, grief, defeat, and then winning.

But I am just an old lady who needs to be another personality of sorts to spread not reality but only happy fake joy. Remember when you smile and move forward that everyone is not perfect.

Do not gaslight to force me to go to work with my disabilities. You tell me that is the only way to force an old lady to work in a full-time job. Do not tell me because I had different professions that makes me a dual personality. It means my IQ is 135 and I grew up in a time when women were supposed to be rattling those pots and pans in the kitchen, barefoot and pregnant. I was told at 17 that my IQ was 90 as I was depressed. I was pregnant in 1967. I was forced to go to an unwed Christian mothers' home to give birth and give up my baby for adoption. My psyche was depressed, scared and crying, The preacher and counselor gave me an IQ test instead of proper depression counseling. The minister and counselor in the religious unwed mothers home told me and my parents I had a low IQ and that’s why I was pregnant. OMG! Here we are again. Oh, know oops sorry, ‘My bad.’

The Women’s liberation movement began in the 70s out of the 60s. I enrolled in college. They gave me four IQ tests and I scored 135 on every one of them. I discovered the religious minister and counselor at the Christian unwed mothers' home were patriarchal religious nuts. I was lied to by the patriarchal society.

So, when a person condemns me as a human being I want to slap them at this moment in time.

The rose has thorns pricking your fingers as you reach for the pedals at the top of the stem. The rose smells so sweet. Ouch, you pricked your finger on the thorn when your finger accidentally slipped. Your finger begins to bleed, and you find a bandage to patch it up.

Theres no more revenge because I saw your shadows and prickly finger bleed as you cupped your finger to your lips.

Life is full of difficulties to overcome. Why not write about the good, the bad, the ugly?

IT IS ABOUT ELDERS TELLING STORIES NOT MY S#I#

This is a prose story about how fed up I am with gas lighters. I am completely fed up!

My IQ unfortunately is 135 but how stupid I should have been to think I could do anything but be a second-class citizen and crawl into your shadow of darkness.

I will write about cookies, puppies, pan dulce, cakes, babies, and all that part of life. I will also write about politics, the good, the bad, the ugly, and author stories about life are meant to teach. However, my teaching was not what you saw. So sorry I am not a cookie cutter, but I am a human being, Next story will be about frogs and toads turning into a prince to wake up sleeping beauty. When the princess wakes up, she bows to her prince with a complete slavery mentality. This is how women were treated long ago. I authored stories about the inhumane treatment of women, but you took it as an ugly side, and I am not to write about myself or ugly society.

So, a pink unicorn just came in the house to remind me he is a figment of my wild imagination.

“THERE IS A FALSEHOOD IN SOCIETY. POOR PEOPLE ARE NEEDY. BEING A TRUTH TELLER IS UGLY AND NEGATIVE AND BEING A GAS LIGHTER AND MEANIE IS COOL, BUT YOU TELL ME THAT MY STORIES ABOUT THE TRUTH ARE NOT ANYTHING ANYONE WANTS TO READ.”

I am a loner, obscure hermit at 75. I trust no one! It is my prerogative!

I am me,

You are you.

We are human as can be.

You

Are human too.

So, why gaslight

Out of spite

You think you can do that,

Try to get me in a spat.

Go to work.

Write about your gig.

Take a swig

Of coffee and swoon

A tune

To relate to your other side

Of you in stride.

I want to know what other side

Of my strife

I create out of my heart & soul.

But to report events is not me

You say,

I need to be sweet & innocent today,

At 75

Do not write about me,

But flowers, puppies, and balloons

To create sweet things of life

No strife

The other me is me

As me as can be

I am a humanitarian and

A warrior

Always have been.

A warrior for equal rights

So, it seems to beam

Of gaslighting

A vulnerable old lady

With all your might

Now I am out of sight,

As you will fade away

Apologize to me as your voice fades.

I will carry on

& that is not a negative zone

But that you did not gaslight

Enough to keep me down.

On the ground.

Get a job old lady I hear,

Another gas lighter says.

I am 75 years old,

So, I have been told

As I have three old age diseases of sorts

Kidney disease is for all ages.

Even my third stage

Thyroid too,

Walking is slow

To row

My feet down the street

To meet and greet

So, as a vulnerable old lady

An elder

Society says work until you croak.

That is no joke.

I was a nurse at one time,

And you want to obscure my art,

To interview me about nurse jobs

Ask questions,

So, as you produce your music & art,

I will fart.

As I talk to you

About why you think people need to see my other side.

The person telling me that

Must have four sides.

I am me,

As to be.

So, by end of this year

I will tread to a retail store,

With crying a tear

I will stand for hours,

Then go home to crash,

And do it again.

Walk to work two miles,

Dragging my feet

You say that is negative.

So, by the end of the week

I am so sweet &

Dead!

People celebrate with cocktails.

Here is what I said!

Life is for the young.

Life is for the healthy and wealthy.

Life has sprung,

To be

As it is

So, as an old lady

As that is not cool

You fool.

You will be old too.

So, I work,

Throw my art & music away,

To sway your way

That nursing was my other personality.

No, it was my only choice in 1968.

But in today’s society

We are supposed to be playing

With puppies and flowers.

This is about me

I am a humanitarian as can be.

That is why people gaslight me,

Put me in a corner,

Point fingers as they stride,

With pride

To belittle an old lady

As an elder I have many stories to tell

But no wait, do not do that.

My head swells

With people’s tit for tat

And all that.

When I author my stories, create music & art.

It is not to write about me but to spread truth, not farts.

It has never been all about me.

The grief

Nor the laughter

It is about teaching others at a younger age.

But whoops, I took your stage

Of creativity.

I will burn my sage,

But not in a rage,

The gaslighting is all about you

And how you feel.

To intimidate me

To feel like a busy bee,

To wave your hand

In the air.

I say to you,

Have a wonderful day!

Time is time,

This is a rhyme,

To repeat

A thank you for reading my rant

About gas lighting people who bore me!

I am too kind, too nice, but life has taught me people do not respect old ladies, so on that note judge me, gas light me, belittle me, gossip behind my back, and dance on my grave in the Pacific Ocean when I die!