raining on the gang plane

In a couple of days I go to Austin for the Hall of Fame thing...the Austin Music Awards. I already miss my husband---no, really we are not married--I already miss my two cats--Fluffy and Fluffier. home is where my heart is....not any new thought there. i am happy to be going to Austin though. many good friends there. the award thing will fun too...of course i'll drink too much i guess. funny, while i write i am hearing on tv the news on war of gangs in the mission--where i live--the one gang is moving in on the other gang's area- are these people from here? i mean from America? or have they come here to kill ech other...people from other Latin countries, kill us if we get in the way...killl...kill...spray paint and then kill. i pray it all ends....but i watch Gangland on tv and hear these people talk and i loose hope. i worry about Thom coming home in the dark hours of the morning and running into these gangs...i want to Be Buddha and not mean thinking....but the mean thinking comes too easy---shenpa--the Buddhist word for a sort of habit we fall back on...the ugly reaction to a situation and how i wish i did not 'go there' but i do. i wish i wanted to spread peace to the ones who come here, or are born here and do nothing but shoot and kill...themselves and us--children and innocent folks....kill us.....i really wish i could hear all of them had gone away--some where else...gone back to...some where..or just stopped hurting every body. or else lined up from here to hell and back and all pushed in a ditch and covered up....never to hurt again. it's a reaction to hearing they are killing people with in three blocks of my home.....
so--Austin---gangs there too. the weather is ready for Monday--showers?? award me in the gang soaked runways in the hell of trying to be good.
i am a communist---not a fucking liberal at all. i believe in justie for real crimes and not silly harmless pot holding--but real harsh on the spot justice for real on the spot crimes.....i always ask 'what would Mao have done?' what would Jesus do" austin seems so silly now that i am all whipped up with this other stuff.

My grandfather was poor, poor, poor. He and my grandmother (my fathers parents) were saved by the railroad. a steady job and my father also got a job there. He worked there all his life. Even leaving the job only to join the army, fight in WW2, then coming right back oto that job. It was expected for me to do the same. When the two year stint i had to do my job after getting drafted--i was told to go visit my granddad and listen to what he had to say. he talked to me about me going to work for the railroad. Even as i said i ould, i know i would never do it. I was going to move to Austin and live with my old high school buddy...and that's what i did,

Mr Floyd Speaks

I write from the heart--and not from any English class...i failed most all the subjects i took at Westwood High School. I was too busy being a class clown and feeling hate for the world i lived in....little town and feeling different. i needed special ed i m sure...but no such thing at Westwood. I was feeling the hand of Viet Nam on my head....coming down to take me away....from home and mama and daddy...and Deborah..all i knew. i wanted to go some where so bad but i wanted to stay too. I didn't want no Viet Nam, though. i think back and wonder what i did want.
i never found out because i got drafted in March 1972....but i had thought ahead...and i was not for the u.s.a. in that war..i was for our soldiers to come home safe but not for us to win...that's another reason i felt out of place in Palestine Texas...i felt much more in tune with the communist than the u.s .government....really, though, i didn't know shit about the communist....it just sounded good--you know?
so i got drafted and became a janitor for two years in Houston, Texas at Jefferson Davis Hospital...i had signed up as a conscientious objector back when i was 18---that old woman at the draft board office hated my fucking guts when i made her give me the right papers to fill out...i was lucky to have a copy of the Consientious Objector's Handbook....so i knew the law...i knew you had to sign up with the correct papers or you'd never get C.O. status....she hated that i knew that. i wih i could say that loved her..but i did not love her. although now i can say I Do Not hate her.
another day.....please bee happy--buzzz