Monday, October 1, 2018

the blame game

my very fav spooktacular series ever is AMERICAN HORROR STORIES
with ASYLUM...season 2...make'n my all time fav-o-rit top spot...who cannot luv Jessica Lange's mentally unstably disturbed lyp-sync'n performance of the "name game" with her fellow inmates...she could sink any cookie cutter dime store queen lyp-sync'n fer their last supper on that other show

though that was just 1 season of insanity where certain women were not
rape or attempted rape include'n molestation...is a very personal and a  
very private situation for the victim alone...who feels completely alone...with statistically only 2% of rapes that are actually reported that turn out to be false accusations...statistics can only say so much fer those that are actually reported...and even when they are reported it is barely believed or mostly shrugged off as some sadistic "boys will be boys" attitude when it comes to school aged kids...cuz society favors the adults version of events over the child's...so why would a victim...especially a child...feel any sort of believability factor when the odds are already conditionally stacked against them?


there are films available where rape and molestation are sensationalized 
by hollyweird...that are packed full of an oscar nominated cast of characters...fer the general public to go on some sorta unbelievable emotional roller coaster fer a few hours...but make no mistake...it happens every day...and it does not end after a few hours fer those who've experienced it...nor do they expect to walk away with any sort of oscar nomination!
i mean...it went on fer years with a large portion of the catholick church...with pay offs and relocations...all the way up the chain to to the vatican

have you ever laid on yer stomach prop'n yer over sized melon head up
with yer hands...in yer smurf pajamas...watch'n the latest MTV videos in heavy rotation...late one nite in the summer of 1984...as yer family lay scattered thru-out the house like comatosed corpses...and all of a sudden...you hear a knock at the front door...
pissed that you have to unglue yer eyes from the 1st ever top 20 video countdown on MTV with Mark Goodman...to answer the damn door...you jump up to see who it is
only to find out it's an outta town relation...so you let them in and resume back to yer position and back to the much anticipated countdown in hopes yer fav-o-rit artist makes it to the top spot...until said relation starts annoy'n you as they try to make small talk...while use'n yer body as their own personal beanbag while give'n you a back massage
as their sausage like fingers turn you into a living lullaby dance'n across yer back side in a slow meticulous waltz...you try and muster the strength to keep at least one eye open to see who finally made it to the top of the countdown...but realize to resist is completely futile and you soon submit to the sensations...that is...until you feel the sooth'n sensations finally head'n too far south as they start knock knock knock'n at yer barn door and you immediately get up without say'n a word...
run up the steps and force yerself to count sheep while drift'n off to the soothin' sounds of the Ratt's "out of the cellar" cassette that you got as one of yer selections from sign'n up to yer aunt's Columbia House cassette club...where you could get 12 hot hits fer just a cool penny...with a chance to get 2 more free...once you've managed to mortgage yer teen aged life away and sell'n yer soul along with yer paper route save'ns to corporate america
the 1st time you muster up the strength to tell an authority figure outside of yer surround'n...yer immediately told that becuz of yer "inclinations"...that it wasn't anything to worry about cuz you probably just interpreted it all wrong (insert "boys will be boys" mentality here)...so you bury yerself back to yer bedroom...blare'n yer music and start build'n a fantasy world by turn'n yerself into some sorta kabuki klown fer years and years...unable to trust anyone around you...wonder'n why you even exist after bein' told over and over it wouldn't matter cuz yer not to be believed due to yer appearance

yer told by many teachers and preachers who tell you to learn to "fit in"...
even though they don't teach the others to "just get along"...so how do you when you have to deal with bullies and bitches on a daily basis?
luckily...eventually you find a flock that takes you in...and gives you a voice!

unless it happens to you personally...especially when yer just come'n into
 yerself and what yer taught grow'n up...you will never know how it affects yer life...yer work...yer relationships...yer interactions with others...sure you may find small pockets in life to block out the experience...by change'n names...change places...change'n appearances...but at the most unsuspect'n moments when yer left alone...yer left to deal with it on yer own

2 exams by professional doctors years later...once in my 20's & 30's...
turned into gynecological exams...without gloves...that i knew at that point i would never trust another doctor to ever exam me again...well...unless it was a role play situation happen'n
(hey humor helps me deal...so deal with it!)

they say that soup may be good fer the soul...but spill'n it ain't easy...
cuz sometimes it burns!

there is no time limit...even if time still marches on... moments never fade!
now get off my dress!

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