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So I was feeling badly, sad, because I share our mutually complicit status for my compatriot's difficult terrorizing chronic stress disordering time. I too have been there, lost there, to a more moderate extent. I just walked away. I wish I had done more at the time in the Navy's January frigid spaces against cooperative ecopolitics, about being of more general use if fascist critical events of the mid-seventies had been recorded, freezing dark military-academic preparation time industriously repeating deforesting further virgin ecofeminist Vietnam forests and their matriarchally cooperative villages, to become watched on YouTube by all prospective soldiers and NRA advocates, by patriotic nationalists, thinking about possible antecedents, before Bad Ol' Daddy's Country-Western Concert went so very wrong. I wish we could have recorded this matriarchal confused and frightened patriotic loyal commandantish face when I shared with her I felt ecofeminist disgraced by her Bitch! Shoot at me again and I will Take You Out!!! defacement, in a most homophobic frozen officious place of mutually inflicted terror. So then I was feeling a bit more glad, but still sad I had not actually said more, done more, so I began trimming my twining tendrils enveloping what's left of uprooted deadwood trees malingering in my back lot and having a rough go of it as my hedging shears are no longer what once they were. As usual, I tend to speak with my plant recruits and candidates for future flaming victories, and felt required, "I apologize for this jab and grab and pull and pushy ecopolitics, but Mommy needs sharper, and probably newer, scissors for shutting up her RightBrain EcoFeminist Diva Voice. Apologizing to the entire human race" of potential soldiers and ballistic deadwood downsizers for your not yet having seen that anti-feminist patriotic face glare me back into space with timeless time exclaiming BITCH! Shoot your GLBT EcoFeminist mouth OFF AT ME? I DON'T military anti-ANTIfeminist THINK SO; but I wonder how I feel about being this predator in this eternal frame of egopolitical ignorance, lack of cooperative military research and economic-educational-formational intelligence gathering. As I continued with hacking scissors and played-out ecofeminist sawsall balls off and the big manly Yang chopper offer with their underdog heads! I kept going back to those January freezing eyes. IF LOOKS COULD KILL!!! BITCH!!!!! YOU DO NOT KNOW ME and think you can punk your gay white ecofeminist butt in my guest chair and think your MidWest Academic BullCrap will even so much as reach one WinWin Ping of inspiration aspiration hope, YOU DON'T KNOW ME! I might have majored in BullDike Fascist Terrorism! YOU DO NOT KNOW ME!!! and maybe I don't either. Who wants to be that angry lose-lose antagonist of military industrial absence of intelligence, would you? I wish this imaginary spacetime scene had played out in RealTime frames just that audio way, but even without sound, with just her I AM NOT YOUR BITCH! but you are not going to be mine either. She could not sign those exit papers fast enough, continues visual only images of how I still feel, more or less about these tangled vines and tough deadwoods hanging out in my wanna be ecofeminist backyard. I will chop them up and paint them into diva totem poles and frames in which ecofeminists always play in YouTube Blue and Green Estates of most polyculturally matriarchal peace in this back lot solitude, Although occasionally the patriarchal husband makes a cameo appearance for a few All Lives Matter Moments, But usually just me, in an early October day preferring to forget dark frigid January anti-feminist nightmares of militarized neglect of basic health assurance and safety delivered by angry matriarchal commandants, and hedging shear divas, depending on which lens is in play, the full-staged historical tragedy within my more personal back lot comedy. It's still peaceful here in my backyard. The crows have flown off warning descent of warm October sunlight.

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This Is Unfinished Feminist Us

So I was feeling badly, sad, because I share our mutually complicit status for my compatriot's difficult terrorizing chronic stress disordering time. I too have been there, lost there, to a more moderate extent. I just walked away. I wish I had done more at the time in the Navy's January frigid spaces against cooperative ecopolitics, about being of more general use if fascist critical events of the mid-seventies had been recorded, freezing dark military-academic preparation time industriously repeating deforesting further virgin ecofeminist Vietnam forests and their matriarchally cooperative villages, to become watched on YouTube by all prospective soldiers and NRA advocates, by patriotic nationalists, thinking about possible antecedents, before Bad Ol' Daddy's Country-Western Concert went so very wrong. I wish we could have recorded this matriarchal confused and frightened patriotic loyal commandantish face when I shared with her I felt ecofeminist disgraced by her Bitch! Shoot at me again and I will Take You Out!!! defacement, in a most homophobic frozen officious place of mutually inflicted terror. So then I was feeling a bit more glad, but still sad I had not actually said more, done more, so I began trimming my twining tendrils enveloping what's left of uprooted deadwood trees malingering in my back lot and having a rough go of it as my hedging shears are no longer what once they were. As usual, I tend to speak with my plant recruits and candidates for future flaming victories, and felt required, "I apologize for this jab and grab and pull and pushy ecopolitics, but Mommy needs sharper, and probably newer, scissors for shutting up her RightBrain EcoFeminist Diva Voice. Apologizing to the entire human race" of potential soldiers and ballistic deadwood downsizers for your not yet having seen that anti-feminist patriotic face glare me back into space with timeless time exclaiming BITCH! Shoot your GLBT EcoFeminist mouth OFF AT ME? I DON'T military anti-ANTIfeminist THINK SO; but I wonder how I feel about being this predator in this eternal frame of egopolitical ignorance, lack of cooperative military research and economic-educational-formational intelligence gathering. As I continued with hacking scissors and played-out ecofeminist sawsall balls off and the big manly Yang chopper offer with their underdog heads! I kept going back to those January freezing eyes. IF LOOKS COULD KILL!!! BITCH!!!!! YOU DO NOT KNOW ME and think you can punk your gay white ecofeminist butt in my guest chair and think your MidWest Academic BullCrap will even so much as reach one WinWin Ping of inspiration aspiration hope, YOU DON'T KNOW ME! I might have majored in BullDike Fascist Terrorism! YOU DO NOT KNOW ME!!! and maybe I don't either. Who wants to be that angry lose-lose antagonist of military industrial absence of intelligence, would you? I wish this imaginary spacetime scene had played out in RealTime frames just that audio way, but even without sound, with just her I AM NOT YOUR BITCH! but you are not going to be mine either. She could not sign those exit papers fast enough, continues visual only images of how I still feel, more or less about these tangled vines and tough deadwoods hanging out in my wanna be ecofeminist backyard. I will chop them up and paint them into diva totem poles and frames in which ecofeminists always play in YouTube Blue and Green Estates of most polyculturally matriarchal peace in this back lot solitude, Although occasionally the patriarchal husband makes a cameo appearance for a few All Lives Matter Moments, But usually just me, in an early October day preferring to forget dark frigid January anti-feminist nightmares of militarized neglect of basic health assurance and safety delivered by angry matriarchal commandants, and hedging shear divas, depending on which lens is in play, the full-staged historical tragedy within my more personal back lot comedy. It's still peaceful here in my backyard. The crows have flown off warning descent of warm October sunlight.