Hello world! Meet the Gypsy

It’s on.  Let us see what you’ve got.

This is my blog. These are my rules. Let’s get down to the nitty gritty. Let us explore the Truth. But if you are guilty of bullshit, I will smite you might-ily.

Religion is absurd. And I can tell you why. I can break it down for you. Throw me your best curve ball.

Politics is more of a joke than religion. Challenge me, I will show you the light.

Knowledge is useless. Oh, I know what you are thinking, but you know so much, gypsy, how can you say knowledge is useless? Glad you asked. But, before I tell you, I need you to ask, like you really want to know.

I want to dispel myths, delusions, illusions, and forsake allusions, intrusions, and confusions. Will you come play?  Give it to me.

Why Spoutible Matters

I spent the last hour crying. And I’m not a cryer. I never cry. But something extraordinary happened & even as a robotic autistic who rarely feels feels, I was verklempt. Totally unprepared. I have been on the Internet since its inception. Never have I experienced such a sense of community. I was on chat rooms that turned into Friendster that morphed into MySpace which eventually led us to tmblr, Twitter, Facebook & Spoutible. Gen X maps this evolution of social media in our DNA. The entirety of its development has taken place in our lifetime & its longevity or effectiveness to influence will not be denied.

So, why does Spoutible matter?

First, as an introvert, connecting with people I know electronically is my preferred method. I generally do not like people in close proximity anyway. They consistently disappoint me. If you study my social media profiles, you’ll see I value quality over quantity, so if I follow you; I thank & appreciate you. That was my number one goal on Spoutible. After 20+ years of social media & watching it disintegrate at the hands of megalomaniacal billionaires; I was weary. I had been on 💀🐦 since 2009. I saw it rise & fall, however, like many others, its current state of decomposition & the ugly rearing of hate, prejudice, homo/transphobia, misogyny & straight out modern day Nazism (aka Christian Nationalists) from its bowels has forced many of us to flee hastily to anywhere else not merely out of a sense of principles which make most of us balk at supporting a forum allowing such abusive behavior under the disingenuous guise of ‘guaranteeing Free Speech’ in light of how apparent it is to every-freaking-body, the current owner of the site is only interested in supporting/promoting/perpetuating white supremacy, but also out of a sense of self preservation & maintaining our sanity. We no longer felt safe.

In my fourteen years on that site, I built 4 separate fairly decent accounts. I have no ambition to be a huge account nor do I strive to go viral. I’m 100% there for the interaction (Introverts UNITE! From the safety & comfort of your own home!😁 #IYKYK). I used each account the same; lil bit of fun, lil bit of politics. Ok. A shitton of politics. It is because I have a tendency to be *outspoken* against bullshit (I ain’t even sorry), I lost my first 3 accounts to trolls who targeted anyone speaking up for democracy & against the corrupt Republican party. I was bereft. I put a lot of heart into those accounts, lost touch with some great people when they were suspended (but that’s the point, right?) There didn’t seem to be any defense. I was almost afraid to protest (behavior programmed into my DNA) because it’s a tedious task starting over on social media & I was tired of doing it just to be forced to surrender because foreign countries & domestic terrorists were attacking US in an attempt to influence an election. I didn’t think I had it in me. But THEN CAME BotSentinel.com! Are you kidding me?? A browser extension that detected trolls?? You gotta be kidding me. I’ve been electronically engaged since all screens were black & all text was green & I don’t recall such a clever, EXTREMELY useful program as Bot Sentinel (in my life! Not NASA😁)that benefited everyone like me who wanted to weed out trolls to preserve their efforts to fight fascism & Christopher Bouzy just HANDED it to us; for free. It truly changed the game. Who does that?? Bouzy. Bouzy does that.

When the current owner of 💀🐦took over, many of us immediately instinctively knew what was about to happen. Complete annihilation of the community to the service of oligarchs. NAILED IT! Many like me, hardcore introverts, panicked! Dorsey’s 🐦 wasn’t perfect but it was far less Ku Klux Klan-y & porn-bot-ish. Personally, I was done. I wish Tom from MySpace the best! That was my favorite SM space. But Zuckerberg & Musk & Dorsey can burn as far as I am concerned. So when Twitter died, I was ready to be done with social media despite how dependent I’d become on it as an autistic introvert who despises the phony outside world.

Tired of putting effort into a forum so vulnerable to the whims of its narcissistic owners. Life is already stressful enough without that kind of ego driven ballyhoo.

Then, just as many of us teetered on the precipice of hopelessness, on the verge of fleeing our online refuge into the cruel electronic world with no place to go; enters Christopher Bouzy. Isn’t he the Bot Sentinel guy? Yes he is. The guy who gave political activists like myself a way to protect themselves from being attacked by nefarious *DISRUPTIVE* netizens, he was already beloved by a great deal of us. To provide such a unique & valuable service FOR FREE no less, made him a hero in my book.

So it becomes clear the 🐦is gonna💀 & so a mad scramble begins to be the next 💀🐦, because nothing will change when that is your goal & some of us are sick of the same old same; to quote the Beastie Boys — Something’s Got To Give. That’s why, when Bouzy asked his followers if they’d consider an alternative to 💀🐦, only without bullshit, we lost our minds! Yes!! Yes. Yes. Yes. His vision was inspirational. Guardrails based on Bot Sentinel to address/prevent abuse & trolling, a corporate stance against misinformation (that’s insane! No one else has the courage), & the way he sent us polls & surveys & let us be a part of its development & policies the entire time he was building Spoutible ended up creating a community of supporters who in the most extraordinary way, bound by their appreciation for Christopher, became an instant family. I see FIRST WAVE in so many bios. It’s a sense of pride both of & for Christopher Bouzy. He created something amazing here. He saved us, many whose voices would have been lost due to social media fatigue. After breathing in the toxicity of social media for over 2 decades, Spoutible is like fresh air. Anything is possible! But not everything would be tolerated. Not censored, but we had polls & consensus rules, policies reflect that. Bouzy gave us that & the community keeps itself in line. It is quite impressive. The way you would want a democracy to work. Even if you are suffering from social media fatigue & cannot bear the thought of starting over, I would urge you to give it a try. Trolls are not allowed. Hatefulness will get checked EVERY TIME. Misinformation will be called out & those posting it will be expelled. It is one of the safest spaces on the Internet I have ever seen. The atmosphere is welcoming & inclusive & the FirstWave community are fiercely protective of one another. Exactly how you’d want the real world to be. 

An environment made possible by the RIDICULOUS amount of unbelievably supportive #PodMates you’ll find there.

I have enjoyed a great deal of interactions with family and friends over the years on various social media platforms but on Spoutible, the entire community whether they know you or not, CELEBRATE your accomplishments & share in your struggles. It’s nutso. I mean. It’s EXACTLY how I think the ENTIRE WORLD should be but at the same time mind blowing. I have been online since before the Internet & NO WHERE has there  ever been as great & self regulating community, as found on Christopher Bouzy’s masterpiece; www.spoutible.com

I made a spout about how after struggling with homelessness for 7 years, I had been accepted into a rent controlled apartment in Colorado where I’ve been trying to get to for the last 5 years & within SECONDS I had 30 congratulatory notifications, the vast majority from many spouters whom I’d never encountered before. In minutes, complete strangers asked me ‘how they (the community) could help’ with moving. To say I was overwhelmed is an understatement. No one in my family is that generous. Here, people read ONE of your spouts & think — I wanna help that person. Just insane.

Roughly a week later, #MyPod had come together & helped me raise enough money to escape my hazardous living conditions. ONE WEEK. To say I am overwhelmed by that sense of community would be an understatement. & It’s not just the money. I have been sharing my life experiences of struggle with this pod & YOU KNOW WHAT?? They’re just SO supportive, it makes me feel weird. In a good way. I’m not used to that. But I will learn to deal! I feel certain Spouters have no idea just how wonderful they are. I’m convinced of that. They show TF up when their pods need them. Exactly how you’d want the real world to be.

Who does all that??? Bouzy. Bouzy does all that. Bouzy made all that happen.

I’ve never seen anything like it. & I doubt we ever will. Christopher Bouzy gave us a home.

That’s why Spoutible Matters.

Purple Paisley

Lately I’ve been feeling really overwhelmed & talking real mean to myself. My faith in humanity and the omniverse in general has been flagging but this story is not about that.
The story is about the kind of random awesomeness that happens to me literally all the time and I know it is this universe’s way of saying hey don’t lose hope. It’s the small things really, you know?
I went to the charity run thrift store where they let people have stuff and I’m not ashamed if there’s any perk to being poor, it’s that other nice people give you free stuff that other poor people donate. I have always loved thrift stores even when I had money because I hate how we just throw things away. Recycle y’all.
Also, since I’ve had to flee every living space in the last 7 years without most of my personal belongings, I’m so sick of starting over but I do need grown up things like knives & food. I keep my expectations low & my gratitude high because I am grateful & nobody has to do these gracious acts but many do & I appreciate that. It guides me in my own personal practice to pay their kindness forward out of ultimate respect. And it’s all good and well. They offer a little bit of food which is great, it helps when you’re on a very tight budget. They also offer clothes and what not; I’ve gotten a couple of pair of cute shoes there. But today 2 great things happened. #1 I found A completely intact set of Sears hot rollers with all the original pins to hold them in and it’s the same set I 1st had in 6th grade approximately 40 years ago. I love hot rollers so much this was the find of a century. I plugged them in and they still get kind of hot, good enough. So super stoked.
THEN, this is where it gets even AWESOMER than the food & the rollers & the knives & the weird thing to cook my eggs in the microwave without them splooging everywhere — anyway, I digress.
#2 I was on my scooter and I ended up getting a lot more stuff than I was expecting because I had not gone into the houseware department of this awesome place before. So I’m trying to stack things up on my scooter and I have my backpack and I have a little basket in the back but I also have these 2 plastic sacks; my rollers and what not. I am trying to stack this to get home on my scooter, and mind you there are 30mph winds today, my entire trip was comical, my scooter kept swerving & the wind almost stopped me dead as my electric scooter struggled to meet its power head on. I had to take back roads to use buildings as shelter. It was nutso!
Anyway! As I’m about to leave with this ridiculous bounty, a very nice gentleman named Daniel walked up to me and he said I think I have a bag for you to put those extra things in if that will help you and I was embarrassed. I had already gotten so many awesome things on this visit and I didn’t wanna be greedy. But you know he was offering and I did need it, so I said yes. Instantly I felt terrible because I was like oh my gosh someone else probably needs that bag and I should have thought ahead… I just always feel like I’m taking too much and not giving enough. Even though I know that’s not true, I just don’t succeed as often as I want to help people & I take every failure to heart. It’s a very ugly inner dialogue I inherited from my mother.
So when he comes out & hands me THIS BAG, I mean this freaking particular bag, I almost cried. I thought he was gonna bring me a burlap sack, which I would’ve loved! Sincerely. But Daniel brought me this delightful PURPLE & PAISLEY tote in brand new condition. This place is a loosely organized garage sale. Knick knacks. Curios. Crap. I love it all but it overwhelms me. It doesn’t take much for me to be overstimulated with the everything being everywhere. Smells. Colors. I can’t stay in there very long.
Anyone who knows me eventually learns 2 of my favorite things in all of reality are the color purple 💜 & (among many patterns) the paisley & mandala designs. (Patterns & textures & colors & smells & tastes may all be both triggers or calming agents for my C-PTSD & autism) They both comfort me like nag champa & Egyptian Licorice tea. I adore them both. So when I tell you, this man Daniel, who I had never laid eyes on before he approached me, went into this warehouse of chaos & tchotchkes & somehow found the one bag I absolutely adored & could never turn down — PURPLE, PAISLEY, MANDALA. Not sure how I missed it. Or how no one else had taken it. A bag that no one who knew me for decades would have better chosen, a bag I have loved my entire life. & he just gave it to me like it wasn’t the most ginormous biggest freaking awesome deal ever. Just like that. NBD.
I think that was the Omniverse telling me I am sometimes an asshole to myself. Suggesting I can try at least being as nice to me as complete strangers are.
I’ve said so many times — I do not believe in coincidences. I really needed some kind of sign that my efforts are valuable & my path is honorable. I don’t need lightning to strike or some grand divine gesture. A purple paisley tote from Daniel just refueled my determination & buoyed my faith perfectly. Very subtle yet not at all subtle.
Gonna send Daniel a thank you note.
I’m always grateful for any help I get from anywhere but there’s certainly something special about the Ministry of Hope organization.

Never

When was the first time you really felt like a grown up (if ever)?

I’ll letcha know.

Purple Paisley

Lately I’ve been feeling really overwhelmed & My faith in humanity and the omniverse in general has been flagging. But this story is not about that. Although, my self immolation is an integral part of this story.
The is about the kind of random awesomeness that happens to me literally all the time and I know it is this universe’s way of saying hey don’t lose hope. It’s the small things really, you know?
I went to the charity run thrift store where they let people have stuff and I’m not ashamed; if there’s any perk to being poor, it’s that other nice people give you free stuff that other poor people donate. I have always loved thrift stores even when I had money because I hate how we just throw things away. Recycle y’all. Everything has purpose.
Also, since I’ve had to flee every living space in the last 7 years without most of my personal belongings, I’m so sick of starting over but I do need grown up things like knives & food. I keep my expectations low & my gratitude high because I am grateful & nobody has to do these gracious acts but many do & I appreciate that. It guides me in my own personal practice to pay their kindness forward out of ultimate respect. And it’s all good and well. They offer a little bit of food which is great, it helps when you’re on a very tight budget. They also offer clothes and what not; I’ve gotten a couple of pair of cute shoes there. But today 2 great things happened. #1 I found A completely intact set of Sears hot rollers with all the original pins to hold them in and it’s the same set I 1st had in 6th grade approximately 40 years ago. I love hot rollers so much this was the find of a century. I plugged them in and they still get kind of hot, good enough. So super stoked.
THEN, this is where it gets even AWESOMER than the food & the rollers & the knives & the weird thing to cook my eggs in the microwave without them splooging everywhere — anyway, I digress.
#2 I was on my scooter and I ended up getting a lot more stuff than I was expecting because I had not gone into the houseware department of this awesome place before. So I’m trying to stack things up on my scooter and I have my backpack and I have a little basket in the back but I also have these 2 plastic sacks; my rollers and what not. I am trying to stack this to get home on my scooter, and mind you there are 30mph winds today, my entire trip was comical, my scooter kept swerving & the wind almost stopped me dead as my electric scooter struggled to meet its power head on. I had to take back roads to use buildings as shelter. It was nutso!
Anyway! As I’m about to leave with this ridiculous bounty, a very nice gentleman named Daniel walked up to me and he said I think I have a bag for you to put those extra things in if that will help you and I was embarrassed. I had already gotten so many awesome things on this visit and I didn’t wanna be greedy. But you know he was offering and I did need it, so I said yes. Instantly I felt terrible because I was like oh my gosh someone else probably needs that bag and I should have thought ahead… I just always feel like I’m taking too much and not giving enough. Even though I know that’s not true, I just don’t succeed as often as I want to help people & I take every failure to heart. It’s a very ugly inner dialogue I inherited from my mother. I’m working on it.
So when he comes out & hands me THIS BAG, I mean this freaking particular bag, I almost cried. I thought he was gonna bring me a burlap sack, which I would’ve loved! Sincerely. But Daniel brought me this delightful PURPLE & PAISLEY tote in brand new condition. This place is a loosely organized garage sale. Knick knacks. Curios. Crap. I love it all but it overwhelms me. It doesn’t take much for me to be overstimulated with the everything being everywhere. Smells. Colors. I can’t stay in there very long.
Anyone who knows me eventually learns 3 of my favorite things in all of reality are the color purple 💜 & (among many patterns) the paisley & mandala (Buddhist inspired) designs. (Patterns & textures & colors & smells & tastes may all be both triggers or calming agents for my C-PTSD & autism) They both comfort me like nag champa & Egyptian Licorice tea. I adore them both. So when I tell you, this man Daniel, who I had never laid eyes on me before he approached me, went into this warehouse of chaos & tchotchkes & somehow found the one bag I absolutely adored & could never turn down, I am gobsmacked! Not sure how I missed it. Or how no one else has taken it. A bag that no one who knew me for decades would have better chosen, a bag I have loved my entire life. & he just gave it to me like it wasn’t the most ginormous biggest freaking awesome deal ever. Just like that. NBD.
I think that was the Omniverse telling me I am sometimes an asshole to myself. Suggesting I can try at least being as nice to me as complete strangers are.
I’ve said so many times — I do not believe in coincidences. I really needed some kind of sign that my current efforts are valuable & my path is honorable. I don’t need lightning to strike or some grand divine gesture. A purple paisley tote from Daniel just refueled my determination & buoyed my faith perfectly. Very subtle yet not at all subtle.
Gonna send Daniel a thank you note.
I’m always grateful for any help I get from anywhere but there’s certainly something special about the Ministry of Hope organization.

Rereading

Transitioning

Lately. Man.

Lately. 

Man.

Been rollin ‘ the dice, 

only to pay the price for such risky wagers.

 

Stress .Oh, so close, though the soul remains tortured

by an enemy unseen,

working from the inside.

 

Transitioning

Oh. Hey!

Lemme say – 

As I’m on my way out, 

Sans a sliver of doubt, 

This whole deal’s been real

Killin’ time like the Ripper

There’s worse ways to waste space

Than chasin’ the sublime place to place

Beats the hell outta bein’ just another shitsipper

New horizons await

The daylight hours escape me

White Rabbit running lately

To make his date with Fate

Destiny has been patient

As I dragged my feet

Quiet evenings at home

While I roamed the streets

It’s impossible to tell

At the crossroads of heaven & hell

What the future may compel of my legacy

Will I finally conquer trauma

Or shall I succumb to defeat

Does closure await me

Or am I destined to retreat into 

The safe haven solitary recesses of 

My fractured psyche

Though the act of hoping will always be free

It’s a costly fool’s folly to tryan believe a

full recovery is any more than exponentially unlikely

on the precipice of experience

bordering the unknown

wild oats have been sown, 

Still the classification “Full Grown” feels premature & unrealistically hasty

No one seems to know, where all the time goes as

we transform what we once were into what we’re to be

Sensing the end drawing near

The down shifting of gears gives rise to the inevitable inquiry

“What comes next?”

Rising above struggles & strife

The Ripper wants nothing more from life

Than to relinquish the knife 

& relish respite from a life of evisceration

Exchanging a slower pace & less worry, 

For a life infinitely less burry

No longer obligated to hurry

Fearing the threat of truncation

7 Years Flood

7 year flood washed everything away

The waters rose higher

Day after day after day

Striving to abide

Barely managing to survive

Constantly swept up in the deluge

Ever challenging, at times – scary & sometimes

So very incredibly undeniably frightful

Desperately seeking refuge

Never once surrendered, no resignation ever tendered

Though the urge to concede, admittedly – 

was stifled

The currents brewed chaos, cyclones intent on drowning

Swirling, tugging, threatening the world with submersion

Relentlessly the tides continued surmounting

Tsunamic waves crest; plunging the soul into eversion

Treading! Treading! Frantic to stay afloat

Without so much as a life vest, raft or a boat

Consumed by regret for not leaving a note

What if they never made it back home

No one was searching, should they disappear

Assume a typhoon consumed them with fear

To be caught up in a whirlwind so severely austere

Life becomes an inescapable maelstrom

Bound By Birth

And now what?
We fight wars our fathers lost
Encumbered by inherited debt from our mothers
When the end comes
We ask, at what cost?
Each new life serves as sacrifice
To pay what is left owed by others?
Being born is not a choice made by any
Even so, gratitude is universally expected
But what of the lives created carelessly
Of which there are many
Who are unwanted, unloved & then summarily neglected?
Do abandoned souls still owe appreciation to those by whom they’ve been rejected?
Could you simply get over it, let it go & move on? Find a way to accept it?
We are all thrust into paternally progenerated conflicts
Buried at birth in maternal arrears
When the search for purpose fails
It’s the fears, through the years that inevitability prevail.

Mutiny (Pirated)

So long adrift, amiss, lost at sea

Eons pass sans any sight of shore

It’s been a millennium, an eternity

Forty moons, yet it feels like more

Bearing the brutal indifference from the sun

Always struggling to keep the sharks at bay

Countless battles fought, though few are won

Left bereft, afloat; unable to find the way.

Ocean and horizon as far as the eye can see

Amidst this abyss of tsunamic emptiness

As merciless thirst taunts relentlessly

Whilst drowning in a sea of hopelessness.

An outlook so grim makes it more difficult to swim

And treading water in perpetuity can be crippling

The reality; odds of surviving grow increasingly slim

Still I resist surrender so long as the waves are rippling