lifeocity

[lifeocity]

Beautiful

Michaela. By Mark Velasquez

[lifeocity]

Jennica 2013

[lifeocity]

Webs Over Water July 28, 2015.

[lifeocity]

The New England Society

As the season changes from the unbearable, sweltering days of summer, into the mysterious, early evenings of Autumn, a special process happens right before one’s eyes. As I tuck away the summer clothes and bring out the sweatshirts, jackets and scarves; it has dawned on me that over half another year has passed and before I know it.

Thanksgiving will grace us with her blessings. Life in New England offers many royalties that other parts of the world I have visited lack for its residents. I know in Sweden, the leaves don’t smell the same as they do in the foothills of the Pioneer Valley of Massachusetts. I know in Germany, the pumpkin doesn’t hold such a sacred happiness which in does in my society, The New England Society.

Autumn’s glistening of morning dew on random blades of grass, directs the senses to inhale deeply as the morning fog rolls over the nearby canal. As the my eyes set glare upon the radically luminescent leaves, changing from green to brilliant colors, bright enough to cut through the fog and greet my eyes a “Good Morning”. Leaves, in all their seasons haves taught me that nothing is ever staying the same, even if the change is so slow, it is not obvious to the naked eye. As I exhale, i can see the cloudburst of breath I offer back to the morning, greeting all the elements of nature that happen to take the time to notice me. 2014 has been a tumultuous year. It started with snow and ice, slipped into mud and rain, then into sun and unbearable heat.

Now, as the road less traveled has even more distance behind me, I take the time to reflect, as the Autumn bonfires dance with rage far into the nights, and the leaves, overnight, turn just slightly less green. I have lost a lot on this road this year. I take another healthy, deep, therapeutic breath and turn back to the front door of my building which I have called home for over a year, take the last sip of my Jasmine tea and thank God, for the beauty and moments of happiness this broken soul has the blessings to find, appreciate and honor, in my New England Society. 9/26/14

[lifeocity]

Your Invitation Has Arrived!

If you keep traveling with me, follow my adventures, trials, tribulations you to will see that one woman has taken the most painful, hurtful, abusive, traumatic life and made something out of nothing. A work in progress. Disposed by those who promised to love me, hurt by those I let close to my heart and soul, burned by those who felt no value in me. I am able to still find some value in enabling relating to readers who, like me, may have and still be in the darkest of dark and the most crippling of breaks a body can have imposed upon itself. While over a year and a half have passed, I find I have good days, and bad days, but everyday... I think of those I have lost and who have lost me.

[lifeocity]

History Scars (My Poem)

“Swinging on a swing, Memories of what life has been, Headache, always close, known better than most. For the days may rain and the sun may shine, History has its scars, and I have mine.

Decades have passed, Looking back, life has happened fast. Never accepted, that’s all I asked, You constantly took me and put me last.

I gave you my loyalty and love, You never gave me yours, Kicked when I were down, You loomed over me, as you left me on the ground. I don’t know how I got here, I can’t go another round. I just want the pain to disappear, History has its scars and I’ll always have ours.“ 9/26/14

[lifeocity]

Am I Lost? (My Poem)

“I’m sitting here, saddened at what I hear and see, Sitting here disgusted, knowing what is near, knowing what is me.

A pretty face, sitting in place, History has been hard, its brought me to this space. Perhaps I’ve lost myself, Never protected accepted by anyone else.

They come, They go, Most will never know, The extent of their lasting heartfelt blows, I’m here, because they are there, Desperate to make sense of all the history, of those I trusted, Those who pissed on me with such care.

Drowning in their baths, Rusted and tarnished, at last. Damaged, broken, and worse off than that, This heart and soul has only ever been shown, black. That is just that!

Years of fault, blame, and shame, There is nothing worth loving about me, The final result is always the same, It’s a matter of time until you too will see, The beauty before you is not worthy to be seen. History has its scars and I have mine, Day in, day out, No one worries unconditionally in honor of me, What is relevant to me, remains invisible for those who matter to see. I’m always fine, Deceitfully laughing behind the tears, of a clown, Smiling behind big blue eyes, even while gravity draws my head down.

If I find myself, where will I be found? Broken, bleeding, dying on the ground? If you knew my whole life’s story, You too would know, This heart, this soul, has taken constant blows, But that is for me, not you to fully know.“ 9/26/14

[lifeocity]

Left Behind (My Poem)

“I can’t take the noise in here, Constant pounding on pipes, till they leak, Within these walls, tears could flood the halls. Day and night, stuck on repeat, Tainted dreams, week after week, I’m having a nightmare and I can’t fall asleep. Having to listen to your verbal speech, Pretending to care, to give you what you seek, Step into my shoes, What’s wrong? Are they too heavy for you? No consideration, for the distance I have to go, To you, I am just something to dispose. You leave me behind to stop the leak, Prevent the flood some way. Don’t bother looking back, I lost you in the horizon, Your miles far away.“ The sun has set, to rise another day.” 9/27/14

[lifeocity]

A clogged lymphatic system could be the cause of your...bloating, swelling, rashes, cellulite, pain in the hands and feet, fatigue, lethargy, and breast swelling

Pinterest

[lifeocity]

Cinnamon (Cinnamomum spp.) is a warming tonic, great for chilly times of the year. Drinking cinnamon milk helps to warm our interior and increase circulation throughout our bodies. It can help to prevent and cure colds and flu. It’s also great for chronically cold hands and feet. In addition, cinnamon milk can help ease digestive issues like indigestion and cramping. It will also help firm loose bowels, so it is a very effective diarrhea remedy for children. Finally, I was excited to read, in an article by Susun Weed, that drinking cinnamon tea regularly will help reduce cavities, strengthen gums and also decrease insect bites. Though her tea is made with water instead of milk, the amount of cinnamon is the same. So, how do we make this tasty treat? You will need:    1 cup of milk    1 cinnamon stick (you can use one teaspoon of powdered cinnamon, but we found that it did not dissolve in the milk and found the powder to be uncomfortable in our throats.) You can get cinnamon sticks here.    honey to taste (try about 1 teaspoon) To make the cinnamon milk, simply warm the milk on the stove until it is almost boiling. Pour it into a cup and add your cinnamon stick. Cover with a small plate and allow it to steep for about 10 minutes. Remove cinnamon stick. Add honey to taste (We all liked it without any honey at all, but the kids liked it even better with a teaspoon of honey).

Cinnamon Milk (HerbMentor)

[lifeocity]

A Patient’s Plea (Poetry)

“Today my life is in someone’s hands Someone else holds my fate I have to hope that those hands are calm and the cut is both clean and straight This someone has chosen a caring life A life that is noble and pure It isn't for the money and fame But more for the chance to cure The surgeon has given up many things That others would not forego They stayed up late and studied hard Because surgeons needed to know... They needed to know the how and the when They needed to know the why Because being wrong was a terrible thing And someone would probably die While others were getting on with their lives The doctor was still working hard Honing a craft that demanded strong skills A career where they must be on guard On guard against stress and distractions and fear, On guard against ego and gloom For those are all things that just have no place In the hospital operating room There can be no fear or the hand won’t be true, And skill is certainly key For without knowledge and skill dedication will fail And the person to suffer is me My future is in your hands today My family and friends and my life So promise me Dr. that you’ll take good care When I go under your knife Use all that skill and your heart and your hands And know that you've given your best And if worse comes to worse and the outcome is bad Keep going for all of the rest WISH ME LUCK!” ~ Anonymous

[lifeocity]

True story!

[lifeocity]

If they did we would have a lot better idea of the pain we could avoid.

[lifeocity]

1920's Urban Dictionary:

Dewdropper: A lazy person

Giggle water: Alcohol, liquor

Bee's Knees: An extraordinary person/thing/idea

Butt me: "Can I have a cigarette?"

Cat's Pajamas: See "bee's knees"

Dolled up: Dressed up

Egg: A rich person

Flapper: A stylish, opinionated modern woman

Get a Wiggle On: Get going

Heebie-Jeebies: A spooked feeling

Ossified: Someone who is drunk

Putting on the Ritz: Doing something with style

Swell: Wonderful.

[lifeocity]

Smuggi in PixelFlix USA Studio July 2015.

[lifeocity]

CT River 2015 - Gill, MA

[lifeocity]

Parental Alienation Syndrome

I was being stalked and harassed by the Commonwealth of Massachusetts and being told I am a horrible mother, person and should be ashamed of my life, soul and being. Premeditated fabrications, disapproval from tracking my child’s phone and producing a tell-all YouTube channel. I had all the paper-trail I needed to resolved the allegations and even proved them as lies within the first week of her plot. All those who were responsible for listening, were so unprofessional and insensitive, every worry I had, they went and indulged my child with. The details are too boring to waste you brain’s space on needing to bother with. It all started and ends with a set of demonic earth-walkers, who go around and collect people and buy people’s companionship. These were the people, who the same Commonwealth had felt were good enough to adopted me. Or was it because my case worker was involved in real estate dealings with my foster family, that the gunshot aimed at my head, didn’t matter. Being sat on by them, as a six-year-old, didn’t matter. Nothing that you would never want to see or experience, as an already severely abused child in foster care (back in the early 80’s), mattered. It’s all water under the bridge, at this point. Through much misconduct, disgrace and constant power and abuse from my “parents”, I learned to raise myself and not let the puppeteer, pulls my stings, to dance to their desires. The big picture began to come clear in my mid-twenties. I was loyal past that point but on 4/5/13, after several more abusive experiences, to the extent of murdering my companion, my friend 5 or so years ago. I was done. I knew they were demonic and has no idea how negative they were impacting the this world, my world, my child’s world. As a mother, I began seeing protection as the focus that connected them to us. Being the last to know that the bells and whistles that came with them, was too addicting and desirable to my child, they ended up “collecting my child”, in the Spring of this year. So now, we are entering the Autumn this year is going to offer us. With this character assassination, I had to do a lot of reflecting. After months and months of reflecting, I came to the realization, I should not have to change who I am, because someone or people, do not like me, are offended by me, or feel that free, unconditional, love and money having to be earned, was not good enough for them. I have now, more than ever, deep seeded trust issues. I am NOT a bad mother. I NEVER harmed my child and everyone involved knows this. I have broken the cycle of abuse, by raising my child in a child abuse-free home for well over a decade. 5 months and my child has not spoken a word to me but keeps telling those paying for her party, she is too “enraged” to speak to me, still. The Commonwealth has not provided her one therapy session in the time that she has been gone. I signed her to their care to keep her off the streets and keep tabs on her. It was a mockery. My rights have been violated and infringed upon in nearly every way, according to the laws of this state of this nation I live in. I have had my family deunified and shattered, because the system and those responsible for maintaining it, failed. I share this info with you, as many of you are close friends. I chose you as a close friend, it does not need to be reciprocated, it just needs to be. By keeping the duct tape over my mouth and my hands tied, I realized, this situation was making me, not who I am. My Constitutional rights have been violated as well. I didn’t matter to anyone, not even my own flesh and blood. Because other people change, does not demand that I change to. I liked who I was. I was, wait, AM proud of the great mother I am and all the love and protection I offered my child. I must let my chrysalis become a caterpillar, turn into a butterfly and let her fly, on her own. Let her fly into the places of help that call her and set that sense of fire in the pit of her heart and soul. I will walk through the fields, forests and parks, looking for my butterfly. Praying for her flight to be all she has chosen it to be. I pray for her safety, sanity and that God will direct her gently to a place of realization and remorse. Throwing away a parent because the grass is sunnier on the other side of the fence is not what makes a meaningful life. I just want her life to be meaningful and safe. Even if my child doesn’t think she needs me. I will always love and need her.