I’m Not a Porcelain Doll, the Reflections in the Doll Corner

This morning, the Porcelain climbed off that high shelf that her owner kept her on display, toward the floor, and, she stood there, in front of the mirror (b/c it’s a girl’s room, and ALL girls want to get dolled up, don’t they???), and, she’d looked at her self in the mirror, left, and right, like how a scientist is examining something s/he’d just, discovered…

I’m not a porcelain doll, Porcelain mumbled to herself, although I looked delicate, fragile, easily shattered, but, I have, a heart of a Raggedly Ann, you can SHAKE, toss me, and let me DROP to the floor, I still won’t BREAK!

not my photo…

I’m not a porcelain doll, the Porcelain decided, that she will NOT be fragile like she’d always been, she’d wanted her owner (a little girl???), to pick her up, and play with her without worrying about shattering her, and so, Porcelain started changing, metamorphosing, and, the little girl who’d owned her, hadn’t seen her, she’d, forgotten about the existence of this particular Porcelain she loved so much.

not my photo…

I’m not a porcelain doll, I won’t break if you shake me too hard, and, even if you tossed me high up in the air, and I come down, landing on my head, I still won’t CRACK wide open!

But, although Porcelain had, made up HER mind on not to break anymore, she still can’t change her physical self, and, surely enough, she’d, shattered, for the last and final time, and, we are all gathered here today, to MOURN the loss, of our dear friend, Porcelain, she was, a very good doll, she just can’t get satisfied, being WHAT and WHO she is, that, is why, she had “died”………

Hobbies, the Haiku of Light

Translated…

How I Loved

Collecting Everybody’s Laughter

So I Can Open it Back Up

On My Funeral

So, this, is how you want everybody to remember you after you’re gone, you don’t want others to mourn for you, instead, you wanted them, to remember the happier times you had shared with them, that, is a great way to leave a legacy behind.

and no, still NOT my photograph…

A Matter of Last Names

This would be a QUESTION I have for, ALL of you out there, and I still have to apologize FIRST, for using “foul” language beforehand here…

Who the FUCK (oopsy!) says, that after we women marry, we need to take the last names of our husbands?  And, wouldn’t that make us like, your “subordinates”, like second-class citizens?  This, is a “tradition” that started, from AGES, or maybe, EONS ago too.

And, why the HELL should we lose our last names, why don’t you men, take OUR last names instead, after all, we are the ones, with the ABILITY to CARRY your offspring, and so, why the HELL is it, that our kids need to take YOUR last names, instead of ours?

This is MORE than just the matter of last names, it’s about how women ARE perceived in the varied cultures in the world, because we’re married to you, we need to “lose” our own last names, because we are, married to you, is that right?  So, how come, YOU stupid losers don’t change your last names to ours?  After all, we are, living, IN the 21^st CENTURY here, and, it is, OUR (women’s) era, to RULE, isn’t that right?

 

 

 

The New Home for the Elderly

Observations made from life, translated…

Awhile ago, after I’d gone for my workout at the park, I’d taken a rest on the benches, the heated summer days, with that gentle breeze, an elderly couple was sitting there, in the resting place, I’d heard the elderly woman tell the elderly man, “Let’s go to the new place to check it out later.”, I think to myself, they must have a huge sum in retirement funds.

Sitting close to them, we’d started in conversations, as we talked, the “new home” that the elderly were talking about, were the dual burial place that they’re going to be sharing after they die.  They don’t have any children, just had each other, and, had made their future plans a very long time ago.  They said, that they’d go to their “new home” to clean it up every single week.

“If you don’t have worries far off, then, you have worries nearby.”  Being able to set up one’s own funeral arrangements beforehand, and so in love, that after death, wanting to be buried together, it’s really rare to see, it’s truly, moving.

And so, you can see how close these two elderly are to one another, to want to be buried together after death, and, it’s a good thought too, because they wanted to keep each other company, even after death, and, this, is a hard-to-come-by, once-in-a-lifetime, very deep, kind of love that these two elderly share.

The Dangerous Thing About Trust…

It’s either make, or BREAK, and, when you BREAK, you REALLY, REALLY, R-E-A-L-L-Y DO B-R-E-A-K!

The dangerous thing about trust, is that if you’d placed your trust into the wrong people, then, you’d be, totally SCREWED, and, there’s ALSO that GOD DAMN problem of T-R-A-N-S-F-E-R-E-N-C-E (hello, hello, hello, Uncle Siggy, anyone???).

Trust is a dangerous thing, especially in this world, filled with a TON of SHIT, how do you know, WHO you can trust?  I mean, lookin’ ‘round here, you’ll see, ALL those GOD damn BUSINESSES that put people’s lives in danger, because they’d wanted to save up on the dollar, and, you ALSO have people, who are still ABUSING one another’s trust, everywhere.

The dangerous thing about trust, you can’t just, TRUST anybody, especially strangers, because you don’t KNOW what their intentions are, and, more often than not, their intentions are NEVER good!

So, what, do we do?  Do we, become skeptics, in the realms of trust?  Do we, still keep that faith, that people are naturally good, and, how, can we, make sure, that the environment won’t get to us, with ALL those bad news that are still currently, playing, playing, playing, AND replaying out there?

 

 

A Matter of Last Names…

Who the HELL says, that after we women marry, we MUST take your last names?  And, why don’t you ALL, start taking OUR last names instead?  I mean, it’s only fair, right, as the “rituals” of a married woman taking HER husband’s last name had been happening since………how LONG now?

So, it’s time for a change!  This is still a SEXIST thing, making us women, subordinates to Y-O-U, and, by becoming your wives (1 @ a time), we’re NOT only signing on as ASS-WIPES, because let’s face it, all you losers are looking for when you find a significant other is a SURROGATE mommy who can BREAST feed you, who’s gonna kiss your boo-boos, and, where, is it written down (meaning in P-R-I-N-T!!!) that we MUST become the mothers of your children?  And, what about what WE want?  Because, you ladies DO realize, that after you’re wed, and had your babies, you’re basically done, right???  Uh, yeah!

Matter of last names, I won’t BE taking ANYBODY’s LAST names, because I will NEVER be married to NOBODY (and your point being???) but me.

Once again, this, is still a W-O-M-A-N talkin’, just so you all know!

The Dry-Erase Board Used for Reminders, on How We Interact with One Another

Translated…

A very long time ago, my friend dropped a white board off at my place, I’d hung it on the walls of my living room, can’t think of a use for it right away though.

Back then, my five-year-old son was very intrigued with the cartoon, “The Sea Thief King”, and, I’d often busied myself about the house that I’d forget to remind him to watch it.  Later on, I’d drawn a picture of a clock on the dry-erase board, with the minute-hand on the time when the cartoon starts, told my son, whenever he sees the time on the dry-erase board corresponds with the time on the clock on the wall, then, it’s time for his cartoon.  With the reminder of the white board, he’d never missed an episode again.

Back then, I’d thumbed across an issue that the whole family shouldn’t miss, but, there was no way to get everybody here at the same time to tell my family members, and fearing that I may have missed someone, I’d taped the newspaper to the dry-erase board, and wrote the words of warnings.  For instance, a while ago, the drinks were placed in bad plastic cups, I’d put down, “For the sakes of your own health, don’t drink the drinks anymore.”, with the newspaper clipping as the evidence, it’d become more persuasive, my children and my husband rarely buys those drinks now.

A while ago, my son was prepping for his examinations, I didn’t want to nag him to spend less time on Facebook, I’d written down on the dry-erase board, “My dear son, you must put everything into your examinations, and just focus, I hope you will perform well on it!”, not long thereafter, he saw the words on the board, he’d erased it, and I knew, that he’d received my care and concerns.

One evening, my husband placed a paper box in the kitchen, told me, “this box is for you to place the items that don’t need to be refrigerated and the larger fruits.” I told him, “I don’t want too much clutter on the floors, it’s hard, to wipe the floors clean.”  After he’d heard, he’d told me angrily, “I can’t do anything that fits you, can I?” I was stunned, quickly ran to the front of the white board, wrote the words, “the smaller matters the wife decide, the bigger issues, the husband’s calls”.  A little while later, my husband passed by the dry-erase board, I’d called out to him, “Honey, did you see what I wrote?”, he’d started laughing, “Yes, my beauty, I saw it!”

Thanks for the PR dry-erase board at my house, helping us all with communications, without the fuses, adding more fun!

And so, this, would be a great way to interact with your families, after all, you all don’t share the exact same schedules, and, writing it on a board once, beats having to repeat to your families over, over, over, AND over again, plus, NO one likes a N-A-G!