Sadly, that’s the majority of the population; or maybe it’s just that the few that are cruel stand out so much that you can’t get them out of your head … or your heart.
During Girl Scouts today my son told me he had spoken with the guardian ad litem (GAL) and told him that he only wanted to spend two days with his daddy and the rest of time with Mommy. It was all I could do to keep from sobbing. I feel the tears welling up yet again as I type. It would have been nice to know about this little meeting so I could have attended. Apparently I’m not a factor that needs to be considered. Fuckers. Both the GAL and Satan can rot in hell.
Just in case they’re reading I have a little message to pass on, “Back the fuck off and don’t interrogate my children, trying to get them say something negative about their mother when I’m not doing anything wrong. It causes them irreparable emotional harm and for that you will pay. Karma is a bitch and so am I."
The son of a bitch GAL was ordered by the state office to reinitiate contact with me well over a year ago. He still hasn’t. I guess that’s what happens when a private GAL is supposed to be assigned so as to not create a conflict of interests based on Satan’s employer, but instead they assign the brother of a state representative to the case. Did I mention Satan works for the state? Yep … the court system.
My daughter later told me that she saw the GAL flipping through a file that had papers in it that looked like my MySpace page. A couple of years ago Satan took me to court to try to get me to take my page down because I had posted this picture of my family:
He said I was using my kids to bate men. Yep, that’s exactly what every man is looking for, a chick with two kids. Idiot. I made my page private to keep him off it. Feel free to take a look at ALL of the pictures of my kids. They’re beautiful and they have beautiful hearts! God bless them! Don’t miss the slide shows!
Prior to going to court I searched the web and found a photo site where Satan's mother had posted tons of pictures of the grandkids. One in particular was a crotch shot of my daughter on the playground. I don't think she meant any harm by posting the photo, but it was a hell of a lot more dangerous and made her more vulnerable to predators than the family photo I had posted. Besides, I'm her mother. I printed the photo and held it up in court explaining my point. The picture was soon after taken down.
I often wonder if some people have hearts. Not physiologically speaking, but compassion, true matters of the heart. The kind of true concern for humanity or any other living creature besides themselves. You know the kind. Don’t you?
When you see a hurt child and want to shed a tear, but don’t so you can help them and make them feel reassured due to your profound strength. They need that. You kind of hope it inspires them to do the same for others. We all need to feel like we matter to someone, if only for a time. The kind of true concern that makes you gasp out loud when you see a stray dog while driving in the car and you practically stop traffic to either get the creature safely in your vehicle or at least scurry it out of the road so it doesn’t get hit. Some of us still do this sort of thing; yes? If you don’t you should. I’m not saying you should put yourself in a position of danger, although some of us do, but you should give a damn. I do. Sadly, I do. It hurts to feel helpless, but hopeful.
Some people take advantage of your kindness. Others learn your weak spots and go for the jugular each time they see you a bit weak.
At least that’s what happens when you allow someone to really know you. You open yourself up to that. They can always use it against you, and some of them do. We’re all weak at times. Aren’t we?
I think sometimes I get so tired that I look people in the eye with an expression on my face that says, “What the hell do you want?” I don’t mean to, but I can’t hide the way I feel. It takes too much effort and I’m beat. Besides who want to be phony? Love me or hate me, but for God’s sake do it with passion, and maybe a little bit of class!
Why should someone have to live in fear of someone hurting them? It’s wrong. Deep down the threat of being hurt can be crippling. Sometimes it seems safe to hide away. Be a bitch. Don’t let anyone in. That gets lonely and I would know this well.
Peer into your soul, see into your own eyes, feel your heart, and keep your hands off others hearts if you only seek to squeeze the blood from it and feel the pleasure of the warmth running down your arm. The world doesn’t need anymore people like this. Of this I’m sure.
I’ve never hated anyone before. Not until Satan anyway. I hope that man dies a slow painful death and I get to watch. If that ever happens please bring me a dirty martini, pull up a chair, and bring the olive jar for our viewing pleasure. A video recorder would be nice as well so I can watch it again and again.
Thanks for reading.
During Girl Scouts today my son told me he had spoken with the guardian ad litem (GAL) and told him that he only wanted to spend two days with his daddy and the rest of time with Mommy. It was all I could do to keep from sobbing. I feel the tears welling up yet again as I type. It would have been nice to know about this little meeting so I could have attended. Apparently I’m not a factor that needs to be considered. Fuckers. Both the GAL and Satan can rot in hell.
Just in case they’re reading I have a little message to pass on, “Back the fuck off and don’t interrogate my children, trying to get them say something negative about their mother when I’m not doing anything wrong. It causes them irreparable emotional harm and for that you will pay. Karma is a bitch and so am I."
The son of a bitch GAL was ordered by the state office to reinitiate contact with me well over a year ago. He still hasn’t. I guess that’s what happens when a private GAL is supposed to be assigned so as to not create a conflict of interests based on Satan’s employer, but instead they assign the brother of a state representative to the case. Did I mention Satan works for the state? Yep … the court system.
My daughter later told me that she saw the GAL flipping through a file that had papers in it that looked like my MySpace page. A couple of years ago Satan took me to court to try to get me to take my page down because I had posted this picture of my family:
He said I was using my kids to bate men. Yep, that’s exactly what every man is looking for, a chick with two kids. Idiot. I made my page private to keep him off it. Feel free to take a look at ALL of the pictures of my kids. They’re beautiful and they have beautiful hearts! God bless them! Don’t miss the slide shows!
Prior to going to court I searched the web and found a photo site where Satan's mother had posted tons of pictures of the grandkids. One in particular was a crotch shot of my daughter on the playground. I don't think she meant any harm by posting the photo, but it was a hell of a lot more dangerous and made her more vulnerable to predators than the family photo I had posted. Besides, I'm her mother. I printed the photo and held it up in court explaining my point. The picture was soon after taken down.
I often wonder if some people have hearts. Not physiologically speaking, but compassion, true matters of the heart. The kind of true concern for humanity or any other living creature besides themselves. You know the kind. Don’t you?
When you see a hurt child and want to shed a tear, but don’t so you can help them and make them feel reassured due to your profound strength. They need that. You kind of hope it inspires them to do the same for others. We all need to feel like we matter to someone, if only for a time. The kind of true concern that makes you gasp out loud when you see a stray dog while driving in the car and you practically stop traffic to either get the creature safely in your vehicle or at least scurry it out of the road so it doesn’t get hit. Some of us still do this sort of thing; yes? If you don’t you should. I’m not saying you should put yourself in a position of danger, although some of us do, but you should give a damn. I do. Sadly, I do. It hurts to feel helpless, but hopeful.
Some people take advantage of your kindness. Others learn your weak spots and go for the jugular each time they see you a bit weak.
At least that’s what happens when you allow someone to really know you. You open yourself up to that. They can always use it against you, and some of them do. We’re all weak at times. Aren’t we?
I think sometimes I get so tired that I look people in the eye with an expression on my face that says, “What the hell do you want?” I don’t mean to, but I can’t hide the way I feel. It takes too much effort and I’m beat. Besides who want to be phony? Love me or hate me, but for God’s sake do it with passion, and maybe a little bit of class!
Why should someone have to live in fear of someone hurting them? It’s wrong. Deep down the threat of being hurt can be crippling. Sometimes it seems safe to hide away. Be a bitch. Don’t let anyone in. That gets lonely and I would know this well.
Peer into your soul, see into your own eyes, feel your heart, and keep your hands off others hearts if you only seek to squeeze the blood from it and feel the pleasure of the warmth running down your arm. The world doesn’t need anymore people like this. Of this I’m sure.
I’ve never hated anyone before. Not until Satan anyway. I hope that man dies a slow painful death and I get to watch. If that ever happens please bring me a dirty martini, pull up a chair, and bring the olive jar for our viewing pleasure. A video recorder would be nice as well so I can watch it again and again.
Thanks for reading.
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