I want to note I also want to help poor folks of European decent living here in America. In fact, I would help my fellow European Americans who’ve never known what it’s like to have nicer things in life, gift them with nicer things when the financials allow for it to happen. I take from the wealthy and give to the poor. I’ll be taking from what my ego feels is my ego’s. My ego, such a punk bitch, lame eye lazy street scum. Who I am without a self, aka, selfless me, can’t wait to randomly hook it up for my friends who may not have as much as people like my dad and grandparents did.

It’s not these individuals faults. I know with my own life. My mama. Do you know why she is one of my top three most influential heroes ever? My mom didn’t grow up poor, nor did she grow up wealthy. She wasn’t upper middle class, or middle class. Probably she and her parents made due with a lower middle class budget, or they were boogies in the poor class of people.

I visited my mom off and on from the time I was old enough to fly on an airplane unaccompanied by an adult. My mom lived in parts of Omaha, Nebraska, throughout about half of my time as a child and teenager. She’d move back to Arizona, then back to Nebraska, then finally back to Arizona. She hasn’t moved out of state since, shoot- 2009? Been near fifteen years now she’s been within driving distance in relation to where I live.

I moved in with my mom, step-dad and two sisters in June of 2007. Here’s why my mom is the best person ever, to me.

I saw my mom made not much at all, come pay day. I never looked at her earnings, that’s extremely rude, disrespectful- not my place to see those numbers. I didn’t need to see numbers. It was evident my mom wasn’t able to afford what people call, “the nicer things in life”. I felt depressed when she had to inform my younger sisters we could not afford what they so badly wanted. They wanted to have a kick-ass bicycle, because it was a cool bike, no doubt about it. But, they wanted to fit in with those white people who could afford the “nicer things in life”. I can still imagine my younger sister, who is the middle child between the three of us siblings. I imagine her coasting up on her new bike, to see if those cool kids who had nice things would accept her. I know in her mind, they’d of smiled, and said, “welcome to the club. Grab a perrier glass bottle of carbonated water- we’ve got lots of them”. Yuk yuk yuk. That made me sadder than her not getting the bike.

Not always, but more often than not spoiled children are real assholes. These are the entitled assholes of the world. I wish someone would pop out ninja style and bop one of these mofo’s in nose. If that ninja threw a crisp, clean punch that connected the way it was meant to, mofo feels his nose break. I also imagine this punk chump screaming, “help me! I’m entitled! Don’t you know who I am?” Wah wah wah.

The same sister now works for an airline company. She’s a flight attendant. She’s hoping to find her partner, like the rest of us lonely ass people who are struggling to win the heart of another person we want to be with. Other than that, which, oof- is what it is…She actually balling out more than our mom ever did. She was able to afford “nice” vehicles. Had a dope spot she called home. She was with some guy for around four years, and he got wet feet. Chicken shit is what I think he is, but that’s just the oldest brother’s opinion.

This sister is still doing well, although some unavoidable shit went down, and so she had to retreat to the base (her dad’s house). Oh yeah. One of her beloved vehicles was boosted. The cops or whoever found it burnt to a crisp. I mean the whole thing looked like it was about to turn to mechanical ash. Then some jackass ran a red and seriously ran into my sister’s current new car. Now, that car is a deathtrap, and the insurance agency feels its not worth totaling. “Ah, she’ll be fine. Could be worse!” Well, not in this instance. Potentially it could be the worst if she dies because the insurance agency was convinced she’d be okay. Whatever.

My mom has gone through stuff like this, maybe not as awful as it’s been recently for my one sister, but shitty enough.

I was always there for my mother. I always listened to her. I always felt like I wanted to cheer my mom up, to let her know she wasn’t alone, and that I loved her so much.

My mama today has a boyfriend who is, upper middle class, maybe low end wealthy. He’s a good enough dude. All that matters is he loves my mom she should’ve been loved all those years before they met. She was stuck in a loveless relationship, mainly for her daughters, his daughters. They didn’t want to make matters worse by divorcing before they were at least eighteen. They finally fucking did it- they managed to make it an official divorce. I think they’re both happier now that they don’t have to tolerate living with one another.

My mom? She’s the toughest survivor I know of. She’s survived emotional abuse, physical abuse. She’s always been underpaid, even though she’s ground herself down to the bone.

Shit… Correct me if I’m wrong, but…Isn’t the guy supposed to bring in enough so that the woman isn’t required to break her back. My mama didn’t get a choice. Her husband didn’t make a whole lot either. If she chose not to work, we’d of ended up either in a hood apartment complex, or maybe worse. It didn’t matter how much it sucked, she had to work her ass off too.

My mom won’t even let her life partner spoil her to the extreme. He’s happy to, but my mom- again, she’s a hero. She doesn’t want it like you’d think she would. She’s a class act in that if she didn’t buy it with her own money that she earned, she’s good without it.

Some people have no limitations. Kind of like me, haha….Ehhhh. I’m working on that. I don’t get any cash money other than what I get from (I can’t say because it’s top secret). I’m not a drug dealer, nor am I a hitman. It’s a legal business deal, nothing illegal about it. I just don’t want to say what it is, for reasons that, if I do end up revealing, you might say something along the lines of, “oh, well shit, that makes sense. I see why you keep a low profile for the time you did”

That legal business deal brings me about just enough to pay for gas in the tank for the week, food from the grocery store, dog food, dog toys, dog treats. It may not seem like the essentials would cost so much, but the prices have skyrocketed in the past couple years. I think we can all agree the price on damn near everything that can be bought, has gone up a significant amount.

I’m going to emulate the warrior who has survived an ungodly amount, and still tries to be a positive person as often as she can. She isn’t a pessimist, well- mom and I can both let out some pessimistic energy ever so often. Same with both of my sisters. It doesn’t help any of us, but I get it. Sometimes we just need to vent to someone we trust. Someone who won’t judge us. Someone who listens and can empathize with the person who vents. To more or less just listen and validate the emotional discord going on in that individual.

I was off the walls with my flow on this one. I apologize for that. Today has been tough for me as it relates to connecting the dots. I did draw lines that connect dots. The thing is, like today, I somehow connected a dot at the bottom left to a dot in the middle right portion of the board. I went from the dot with a tiny 1 next to it, to connecting it with a dot that had the tiny number of 42. Well, sure- to hell with the rules. I’m just of the opinion that without some kind of structure, the connected dots make for an image that barely resembles what the picture should look like, if I’d connected the dots in numerical order.

Oh well.

I can’t send money or gifts today. In reality it’s going to be at least a year from today’s date before I see money flowing to me, because I earned it. I may never be able to see this dream come to fruition. I know nothing is guaranteed, am good with that statement. Still won’t stop me from doing my best to make dreams happen for others, here and there. It’s worth it to me, to give it my best, go all in.

Okay. My left pinky feels like it’s going to break. Time to do other stuff.