Do I give a shit folks think I’m crazy? Hell yes I do.

But not like you think.

Not like limp rag status. Poor me they think I’m crazy?


More like they don’t realize their own crazy? They never said it out loud?

I say it out loud. Which scares folks that hide theirs.

Make folks run for cover. Like my own Mama. Duck and run. Block and reblock. Old school.

But what about? Say absorbing a hit?

Back in the day? That’s what happened to me. And I do believe it helps if you can absorb the nutrients of the experiences and not get stuck rejecting what was and care more to be more for some delusion? Seriously?

Grammar or no grammar that translates.

Cra cray.

My Mama could feel exhilarated I give a shit to even stop by with all the antics? Geez. Even brought David by to see the circus acts of the day at Mamas? People call me crazy?

David saw it with his eyes and brain intact. No one told him shit about shit that day. We came to visit gramma. Victoria just obliged her performance for his eyes and ours. I was like believe me now? Yes. He did and we went on to have a great day visiting Oregon without that bullshit.

Like yeah. That’s why Your Mamas a little upset these days son. That crazy huh? Now let’s go have a great day together and enjoy one another. Poor people don’t know how to live?

I give a shit in the way of educating folks about the way I see the world. Which changes their views if it at well in a very good way. It’s expands it. Like mine was at birth.

Why would I hate that unless I had experiences hate growing up from people who seemed to not be able to wrap their minds around the fact that I could would and did still love my Mama. And wanted to know know her.

It’s blew people’s minds! Good. I say. Some minds need blowing. Dusty. Cobwebs. Get out? Maybe open an ear or two. Let the nose breath something fresh and alive.

We hold on when we need to jump and let go.

Not literally. Children. But in the contexts of where can we really go?

What was Jesus saying? Truth. He died for the truth no one wanted to see. He didn’t have to die for us if we own our shit. We put it on him and hung him on it like a damned postit note.

No one needs to die for seeing it differently. Who pointing the guns? What’s up? What’s killing even doing that is good guys?

Food? How hungry are we? For the blood?

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