Homeless Scientology

Wow. Look at the time. When I was first in college I had 8:30 am classes every mon-thusday. The first two years were basically this model. Plus, in school (High School and before) we had to be to class by 7… or was it 8? Either way, for a long time a healthy schedule was built into my system. I don’t know where I am going with this. Only I woke up a little later then planned yesterday, and had to rush.

I am so going to fail the competition again because getting up today my only consultation was that I would be able to sleep in tomorrow thus losing the competition. Don’t worry I offer you consolation as well, sooner or later I will have a job that forces me to get up at the same time everyday.

Man. I should have included exercise as part of my Senior Project. This is what one of the paths I could have taken would have taken me. Breath in Breath out… as soon as I get this feet/leg problem solved. (I wonder what it is like to have good strong legs and feet that do not complain when you walk at a (slower) pace then you used to.

Wow…I just was distracted and forgot what I was saying, “wow,” to, but why not. Wow. Do you know that the percentage of Transsexual and Transgender people that commit suicide is up there with Bipolar disorder?

Just wanted the world (if the world actually visited my blog) to know what kind of unneeded suffering they are causing. My suffering is not the fault of the world. In fact the world is trying to help me, because I am lucky (have a middle class family and not a poor one).

And I know that there are people out there who are sick enough to feel that it is Gods well and it is a good thing that Transsexuals/Transgenders are dieing. I would have some choice words for you, but I will not say them for others to read (anger is not the answer).

So I pray for you to see the true light. You have been following the reflection of the moon on oily water. If you were to look around you would look past the moon, as obvious of a guide as the human soul and follow a firefly into the oily water before the fly lights it on fire. It is a ‘fire’fly after all. (A little more violent then I intended to go, but when someone hits you just let it flow.)

Tomorrow I get to show that evil man that I am indeed Schizoaffective Bipolar. You might notice that I am using the word Schizoaffective more now. This is because I looked up how to spell it. Looked at it, and realized it is not so hard after all.

I remember a night long ago where we (field trip/High School) were supposed to sleep in the homeless shelter. Awesome I know. The women in the group got the extra special position of sleeping in a home for abused women seeking help (Safe House). At the homeless shelter I ate the food and provided entertainment (we preformed a story from a Dr. Seuss book.)

Afterwards we walked around town and entered into a… ummm… office/recruiting place for the Church of Scientology. On the desk of the recruiter was a bowl filled with candy. Really it was a humongous bowl of candy, and I said to myself, “If she offers me some candy it is a good generous religion. I will use this as a sign. Otherwise the candy is just for show.” I was staring right at the candy bowl unwilling to take candy without being offered. We watched a short video on Scientology and were told about the unconscientious mind. We left the office talking about hypnotism. “When a person is hypnotized they cannot be forced to do something that they wouldn’t do in real life. Someone cannot say they were hypnotized to murder and get away with it.”

At the Safe House I played around with a kid there showing her how to throw popcorn up and into her mouth. “Looks like you learned something from your brothers.” said the teacher. Somehow I was much better with children when I was still babysitting. I was fun to be around, and caring. Now I am a little awkward and certainly not fun. It is almost as if I forgot whatever it was that connected me to children, and animals. You might not be aware that a person can lose these things, but if you have them keep them polished.

I am not going to tell you where I am from, but I will tell you that the headquarters to the Church of Scientology is there, or was there (don’t know if they have moved.) I vaguely remember wanting to pretend I was a Scientologist just to find out more. I was something other then what I am now, or am I? It is kind of sad. All the things I didn’t do, it would have been a dangerous operation.

Now? What great adventures do I go on now? Will I haven’t had the honor of sleeping in a house for battered women again. I was handed a number of art projects. In one I wanted to see leader of a local mosque. When I went there I found out he had been deported years ago, without any reason given to the community. There had been a secret trial, and the city (not just Muslims) was outraged. The mosque however was forbidden to speak about it, and I was asked if I was in the Secret Service. That was a first and only.

See what you get for reading all the way to the bottom (mother). A special Thank you.