The Golden Rule

It’s believed that you learn everything you need to know about life in Kindergarten. Share everything, play fair, don’t push, so on and so forth.

The Golden Rule states in no uncertain terms that you should do unto others as you would have them do unto you. Correct?
I guess I didn’t learn everything I needed to know because that rule is an enabler. Life has taught me with disturbing clarity that the “rule” is more of a suggestion and it only applies to people who have no issue being bound by rules.

You cannot, I repeat, cannot treat people the way you want to be treated because we’re all sociopaths.

The most you can do is establish nonnegotiable boundaries, soft limits, and maybe even a few, ‘you can’t knock it til’ you try it’ points and be honest with others about them. Hopefully, your screening process is stringent enough that whoever makes it past the interview stage, listens and is courteous enough to live within the guidelines, so you may all coexist without incident.
Stop assuming that because you treat people a certain way, they’ll treat you just the same. This rule has some of us walking around here with big ass, block letter, shouty capital ‘KICK ME’ signs plastered to our backs.

Everyone DOES NOT live by the same code of ethics.

What glitters isn’t always gold and all that jazz. I should’ve known as a kid that a rule of golden proportions would be swaddled in deceit. King Midas had the golden touch and you see what happened to him.

All I’m saying is that we don’t all move the same way. Being one-dimensional serves you and you alone. If that’s who you are, then your single-minded focus will serve you well. I’m not a one-dimensional person. I’m a chameleon; multifaceted. I change my colors often, because it’s necessary. I’m a harsh person most of the time, but each person in my life can’t be handled the same way. Different gloves for different loves.

I treat people according to the way they demand to be treated. Yes, demand. If you let me trample all over you, then that’s what I’ll do. If you want me to treat you like the damn Sugar Plum fairy, then that’s what I’ll do. I’ll give you what you need; sometimes what you want. What I won’t give you, is what you expect. What I won’t do is treat you the way I expect to be treated.

You get what you deserve. Nothing more, nothing less.

I’m the Boss

In response to an article on ScaryMommy.com

 

This may just be the most interesting reading I’ve seen in awhile. To the original authoress, Lisa, honey, bless your heart. Considering none of your children ended up in a river, you didn’t end up with a bottle of jack/pills or a noose around your neck, CPS (DYFS for all you East Coast folks) didn’t need to be called, and none of your kids packed up an action figure and decided to ease on down the road to grandma’s house, I’d say the situation didn’t escalate past the point of no return, nor did it do irreversible damage to your children. In my opinion, I don’t believe you did anything wrong. To insinuate that raising your voice or using crass language towards a child of a reasonable age, is somehow excessive or unnecessary, may very well be the biggest load of crap to ever be uttered to a parent. The reason I say this is because it’s unrealistic.

I for one, do not intend to send my children into the world believing that for every mistake or error they make, others will be considerate enough to sit them down as many times as necessary for them to get it, without consequence or repercussion, explain what they did wrong, how to avoid making the same mistake again, or warn them of the consequences that will eventually befall them should they make said mistake again. Oh no. I will not lead my children to believe anything other than the reality of what life (meaning every other person outside of our household) has in store for them should they not abide by the rules laid out for them. Conversely, I don’t want my children believing that each achievement they accomplish will be recognized or rewarded. It’s not reality.

For those of us who don’t reside on high, we learn quickly that a failure to abide by the rules set forth by the powers that be, results in discipline. This eventuality follows you the rest of your life, no matter where you go. You can only buck against the “system” so many times, before finally being penalized for what will most likely be considered either an ineptitude in your understanding or just blatant defiance and disrespect. Neither will be accepted without some penalty. To the outside world, the “real” world, no one cares why you don’t listen, or why you don’t comply. They only care that you do or you don’t. And if can’t or simply choose not to follow instructions; in accordance with common sense, you must be punished. People don’t want to reward bad behavior. Or at least they shouldn’t. If that were at all entirely true, we wouldn’t have politicians or professional athletes, but I digress. If you’re fortunate, you have parental figures who are understanding and patient during your developmental years. They prepare you with a solid foundation of what’s right and wrong. They give you space and time to figure certain things out and when you come to a crossroads and don’t choose the right path, they redirect you without judgement. Yay to those people!

Looking past all the snarky ass comments and the banners of awesomeness being waved proudly, everyone addresses these situations differently based on the conditions surrounding them. Yes we all know, each child is different. Although contrary to popular belief, they do share a common trait. THEY ARE ALL HABITUAL LINE STEPPERS! It is in their nature, same as it was in ours. Inquisition is a biological imperative, but…and this is a big but…the difference between being curious vs being defiant is a matter of choice. Children make a choice to be good or bad, barring any mental/emotional/social disorders.

Understandably, the younger the child, the more leeway is given when it comes to the boundaries they are allowed to push. Not saying that there is anything wrong with that, but there comes a point where a push is met with a shove. Keep pushing and eventually you’re going to be met by a big ass brick wall named mom or dad.

Without conscious effort, we prefer to instill a sense of right or wrong in our children at the earliest possible stages of development. We teach them no, long before we teach them yes. The first time your baby grabs something from you, you don’t want them to have, you coochie-coo a no at them to make them understand that their behavior is unacceptable. We do this to infants people! Nothing at all wrong with that, right? So why is it wrong to raise your voice at a child in order to let them know, I am dead ass serious with you right now? You spend the rest of your life utilizing a variety of behavior modification techniques to get your children to comply. But what are we to do when a child, who is well aware and understands what right and wrong is, no longer listens? Am I to just turn my back on them because raising my voice, being a bit more stern in my delivery, or using a bit more colorful language isn’t considered socially acceptable anymore? You’ll have to excuse me, when I say, and I mean this in the best possible way, piss on all that. As a parent, I made a choice when I decided to bring a life into this world. I became responsible for the impression that life leaves in this world.

I think a lot of people, those with and without children fail to realize that you aren’t raising your children to be model citizens and good human beings all so you can pat yourself on the back. You aren’t giving them a dose of hard, cold reality because you want them to be miserable. You aren’t disciplining them in order to scare the living shit out of them, nor are you choosing not to reward them for every wonderful, fantastical, gold-star worthy achievement because you’re some raging, heartless bitch. We, at least I, am doing this to prepare them for the reality of what the real world has in store for them.

Rules, regulations, laws, etc etc, have and will exist until the earth goes up in glorious flames. Until my child is either legally or in my personal opinion, socially prepared to exist on their own, the laws which govern them, are the laws in which I set forth for them. That means, as cliche as this sounds, as long as you live under my roof, you will abide by my rules. And if you choose not to, you will suffer the wrath of Mom! Not because I don’t love you, but because I do.

Besides, although I am an advocate for a child being a child, as long as they can, children these days are a lot smarter than we’d like to give them credit for. They are far more aware because of the vast amount of information their exposed to. Most children know exactly what they’re doing, when they’re doing it. Most children, know exactly when to hide something from plain view or to expose themselves because they don’t fear retaliation for their actions. Children are indeed innocent, but they are not stupid.

The world is an ugly place, full of ugly people who don’t give two squirts of a pigs anus about the delicate sensibilities you crippled your child with. Because that is what you’re doing. Not every child requires the firm hand of a spanking or the “excessive” yet “effective” impact of a yell. Not at all. But there are some that very much do. If yelling at my child works as a means to instill a healthy sense of fear, then so be it. Making them understand the seriousness of breaking rules, whether meant to keep them from harm, meant to help them, meant to teach them how to behave in a respectful manner, is my responsibility.

Kudos to all the parents, step-parents, God-parents, aunts and uncles, grandparents and persons who’s very existence influences the life of a child. There are plenty of scum-of-the-earth people who have their unworthy souls attached to an innocent child, but to the ones who strive to uplift and raise decent, good human beings, my hats off to you. Even when you don’t think anyone is thanking you, I am. Every time I’m out in public and a teenager is acting a plum damn fool, I’m saying thank you. Every time I volunteer in my child’s class and I see children treating one another and adults with respect, I’m saying thank you. Each time a young person steps out into the world and behaves with a modicum of common sense, I am saying thank you to the mother’s and father’s who have taken the time to instill a sense of decorum and dignity in their children.

– See more at: http://www.scarymommy.com/the-big-fat-fuck-you/comment-page-72/#comment-497422

Human

People can be so completely self-righteous, disrespectful and inappropriate. With the passing of one of our nations most beloved and respected entertainers, Mr. Robin Williams, from a suspected suicide, you would think that people would be a tad more considerate. Wrong!

In my brother’s post regarding the death, he worded his condolences as a “passing,” which is indeed what has transpired. Robin Williams has passed on from this life.

Some asshat, in response posted, “he didn’t pass, he committed suicide. No RIPs for people who kill themselves. I can’t.” I would like to motion that you shut all the way the fuck up!

I hope you get run over by a Mack truck whose tires are riddled with rusty nails, but the truck isn’t what takes you out. Oh nooo. Too good for you. It’s the infection from the bacteria infested nails. It leads to sepsis and you fade away slowly and painfully.

Who are you, to be so high and mighty as to invalidate the life of a man just because of the means in which he’s departed?

Do people really not get the seriousness of mental health? That addictions start in the mind. I’ve always had an issue with this particular subject because it hits so close to home.

For years, during my youth, I was so angry with my mother. There wasn’t anything anyone could say to me, no manner of explanation, that would convince me that what happened to her, was anything short of selfish and unforgiveable. I used to tell myself, that nothing short of the Hand of God would ever make me leave my child.

I was a child, so I thought childish things. I was hurt, so I said hurtful things. As I got older, I was finally given the much need information regarding my mother’s mental health status at the time of her passing.

Cancer. Death of her first born. Forced Hysterectomy. Inadequate medication to balance her hormones post operation. Need I go on?

People only allow ailments such as heart attack, stroke, or communicable diseases to fall under the umbrella of natural causes.

Mental health issues are as naturally occurring as the sun rising every day. You’re more likely to suffer from some type of mental or emotional disorder, than you are to get cancer or have an aneurism.

So when someone’s life hangs by a thread because their minds aren’t in working order, don’t you dare for one second think to shame them because you believe they’ve taken the “easy” way out.

The natural progression of most mental diseases is death. The sad part is our inability to recognize the signs of someone heading down that path.

Suicide is a serious epidemic and their is nothing “easy” about taking one’s life. Nothing about the act itself or what/who is left behind in the wake of such tragedies.

If it were so easy to do, then we wouldn’t struggle with thoughts the way we do. We wouldn’t beat ourselves up for even considering it as an option.

We are only human; fragile and delicate. Our minds and hearts can only take but so much before the pieces that make us up, crumble and deteriorate right before our eyes. Most of us walk a tight rope each and every day and hope that no one thing will nudge us, causing us to lose our footing. No one wants to fall.

Instead of looking down at someone who didn’t make it, try to help someone who’s still here and needs your support.

Hulk Smash

***DISCLAIMER***

INCLUDES VULGARITY

In comparison to others, I am an infant in this whole network of authors, bloggers & lovers of all things literary. At a tender age I discovered my infatuation with words, which eventually matured into a deeply fulfilling love, only to evolve to something essential to my very being.

BOOKS ARE VITAL TO MY EXISTENCE.

The words, ideas, thoughts and expressions of others are key to my survival. This web of coexisting, collaborative and supportive people; unbeknownst to the majority; are like a furnace that keeps this beating organ in my chest from icing over.

So when I find out about the cowardice and repulsive behavior that seems to be pervading the worlds of people that I happen to care for, it doesn’t piss me off. Oh no.

THE SHIT ENRAGES ME! And I am not a nice person on an even day.

Who in the entire fuck do you believe yourself to be, that you can degrade the work or success of another? That you can somehow cheapen the substance; the blood, sweat, and tears, that someone gave to their life?

You fuck ass, sour patch eating, garbage pail dwelling, grime in between the tiles of a motel bathroom.

It is nauseating to hear of you fucking parasites, lurking in the shadows, waiting for an opportunity to leech onto a person of worth and try to suck the very essence of what it means to be an artist out of them.

That goes for you piece of infected genitalia muthafuckas as well. Oh, you don’t know who I’m talking to? I’m talking about you assholes out here pirating books.

Yeah you! How dare you! I can’t even tell you how much I would love to get my hands on each and every one of you, peel the skin off your raggedy ass bodies, lay it out for you and have you write standards in your own fluids, to the key of: I WILL NEVER STEAL ANOTHER BOOK, then sew that shit back on you Jeepers Creepers style, so that vow seeps into your substandard DNA. (In a HAZMAT suit of course. God forbid I get any of your taint on me).

I will never understand your unrealistic, undeserving, convoluted sense of entitlement. It’s blatantly obvious that you haven’t done enough in your pathetic lives, otherwise you’d never engage in such deplorable behavior.

I could go on and on, but if I don’t stop, I’m going to end up starting an FBI worthy search for some of you and I’m too cute to go to jail. Let’s just hope I never have to run into the likes of you. Because believe me when I say, I don’t fight fair and I will make you rue the day that you ever chose to disgrace the literary world with your dishonorable presence.

For what it’s worth, I offer my thanks and my continued support to the authors, bloggers and nut cases I’m fortunate enough to be on this literary journey with. I will always be an advocate for you. I will continue to promote in an honest and favorable way, as a show of good favor and mostly because that’s the way God built me.

Murderous

In comparison to others, I am an infant in this whole network of authors, bloggers & lovers of all things literary. At a tender age I discovered my infatuation with words, which eventually matured into a deeply fulfilling love, only to evolve to something essential to my very being.

BOOKS ARE VITAL TO MY EXISTENCE.

The words, ideas, thoughts and expressions of others are key to my survival. This web of coexisting, collaborative and supportive people; unbeknownst to the majority; are like a furnace that keeps this beating organ in my chest from icing over.

So when I find out about the cowardice and repulsive behavior that seems to be pervading the worlds of people that I happen to care for, it doesn’t piss me off. Oh no.

THE SHIT ENRAGES ME! And I am not a nice person on an even day.

Who in the entire fuck do you believe yourself to be, that you can degrade the work or success of another? That you can somehow cheapen the substance; the blood, sweat, and tears, that someone gave to their life?

You fuck ass, sour patch eating, garbage pail dwelling, grime in between the tiles of a motel bathroom.

It is nauseating to hear of you fucking parasites, lurking in the shadows, waiting for an opportunity to leech onto a person of worth and try to suck the very essence of what it means to be an artist out of them.

That goes for you piece of infected genitalia muthafuckas as well. Oh, you don’t know who I’m talking to? I’m talking about you assholes out here pirating books.

Yeah you! How dare you! I can’t even tell you how much I would love to get my hands on each and every one of you, peel the skin off your raggedy ass bodies, lay it out for you and have you write standards in your own fluids, to the key of: I WILL NEVER STEAL ANOTHER BOOK, then sew that shit back on you Jeepers Creepers style, so that vow seeps into your substandard DNA. (In a HAZMAT suit of course. God forbid I get any of your taint on me).

I will never understand your unrealistic, undeserving, convoluted sense of entitlement. It’s blatantly obvious that you haven’t done enough in your pathetic lives, otherwise you’d never engage in such deplorable behavior.

I could go on and on, but if I don’t stop, I’m going to end up starting an FBI worthy search for some of you and I’m too cute to go to jail. Let’s just hope I never have to run into the likes of you. Because believe me when I say, I don’t fight fair and I will make you rue the day that you ever chose to disgrace the literary world with your dishonorable presence.

For what it’s worth, I offer my thanks and my continued support to the authors, bloggers and nut cases I’m fortunate enough to be on this literary journey with. I will always be an advocate for you. I will continue to promote in an honest and favorable way, as a show of good favor and mostly because that’s the way God built me.

Eventful

Kind of still wrapping my mind around the not-so-randonmess of recent days past. I gave my first review and made my first ever blog post, which is a huge stepping stone for me. And although my journey is very much in its infancy, the step is one I intend to follow in the direction of my ever expanding dreams and purpose.

To say that the out-of-this-realm possibilities that subsequently resulted from one little review have been amazing; unbelievable; mind-boggling, is a complete understatement.

My review garnered some very interesting attention. Namely, from the author herself; Tarryn Fisher, author and genius-brain behind Mud Vein and the Love Me With Lies Series. She is my overlord and reigns eternal as the Evil Queen of the deceptively dark and torturous literary Wonderland I exist in.

I hadn’t realized the door I was opening when I began reading Mud Vein, but I can say, wholeheartedly that there is no turning back now.

I’ve wandered into a mental death match with people who’ve come prepared to fight to the very last drop of intellectual ichor. Persons I was not at all expecting to connect with and move with. They have pulled me into the fray and I’m anxious, eager even, to battle it out and claim victory. Mostly because I feel as if everyone will win.

We all stand to gain from this literary journey. Take from it what you will. I choose to soak it all up, devour every last morsel that is laid before me. I feel like a tyrant, poised to overthrow any and all who stand in my way, but I digress. Heehee. (I have an evil lady in my head).

Any who, I also won a book yesterday in a giveaway. This is the second time in less than a month that I’ve won anything; ever; and they’ve both been books! How righteous is that! Books are my drug of choice and these crafty chemist of the bookish variety are my pushers. 🙂

Thank you to Jovana Shirley over at Unforeseen Editing. I’m really looking forward to reading Breaking Alexandria by K.A. Robinson.

I have also been given the opportunity to beta read which is new and fun and scary, and a whole slew of other emotions that I can’t convey at this moment. It is sure to prove worthwhile for myself, and universal fingers crossed, for the author as well.

Now, even though I am over the moon knowing that my review moved others (anyone to be honest), my luck at winning a book, and being presented with the opportunity to aide in someone’s success, it still doesn’t highlight the best part of the past few days.

Megan Simpson, my newest literary ladylove and purveyor of Reading Books Like A Boss found me and gave me some serious mojo. I don’t even know if she realizes how much her friendship and encouragement means to me at this point. Sometimes you just know, huh. ❤

 

Keep Those Pages Turning