|And So Are The Days of My Life|
Watching On The Case with Paula Zahn, tripping off these murder cases. I don’t know why I find these programs fascinating, maybe it is some sort of morbid fascination, but I can’t help but watch these programs. I find myself listening to the way that these people were murdered and can’t help but imagine the terror and pain that these people went through. I wonder what they did to try to escape, did they try to play along and bide their time to see if they could get away? Did they fight and were overpowered? What if it were me, how could I fight, what would I do, how could I stop the murderer and get away? I honestly don’t know what to say, I know I have been placed in strange positions in the past, I know that there have been times that I was afraid and I got out of the situation, I got away, but then again, maybe the situation wasn’t as bad as it could have been. I wonder would my training be there for me, will it keep me safe? Will it protect me? I believe that self-defense begins with making the right choices; I hope that I continue to make choices that will keep me safe. I worry about my cousin; she does and says some pretty fucking stupid things. I used to be young too, I used to do stupid shit too, but she is literally hanging out with where homeless people and prostitutes. She was propositioned by some old man in a car and she wonders why. She had her gold jewelry ripped from her neck and ended up with a bunch of scratches and wonders why, I think she’s pretty fucking stupid if you ask me, and to top it all she weighs about 90 pounds wet. She thinks she’s bad, I think she’s fucking retarded, but she is my family and I pray that she doesn’t get hurt.
I pray that nothing ever happens to my kids, that they are never put in a life or death situation and that they are never victims. I pray that the lessons I have taught them along the way stay fresh in their minds and that they make good decisions.
My health: I still feel like shit. I went outside for a little while, I felt good pruning the roses and I cut about a dozen and put them in a vase, they look nice. That little bit of gardening, although I hate to say it, tired me out. I don’t tire easily and this was not good. I suppose I won’t go to karate tomorrow night, I want to go, but I think if I do I have to not work out, which then I wonder why I would go. Sigh. I know that a work out and a nice cold breeze blowing over my sweaty body will just make me sicker. I am not sure how to proceed, I mean, pneumonia isn’t a fucking joke now is it. They gave me cough medicine with codeine, it isn’t working. The inhaler helps a bit but not much, it stops the wheezing, but then leaves me wondering if the wheezing wasn’t better before I started using the inhaler.
I don’t believe God is punishing Brian for being an ass, I think Brian is an ass and if God had to punish him for being an ass Brian would be up shit creek for reals. I am not sure how I feel about Brian saying things like he can’t count on me for anything that I never help him (ha!) but I find it ironic that the before this that he said that he could not count on me that he hurt his shoulder and I ended up taking care of him and this time he said it again and he threw out his back, and I am not taking care of him anymore, the sicker I have gotten the more he has had to do for himself. So is it a case of him being ungrateful and then having to rely on me and prove himself wrong, or is it a case of him having to rely on me and then finding out that although I would have been taking care of him but now I can’t and he has to take care of himself. He is miserable, I suppose it’s good that he learns to do things on his own and that he sees how hard it is without my help. He has been offering me a little help here and there, since I’m sick. By the way, it feels like my cough is getting worse, it was really bad, and then it started getting better now it’s bad and I’m coughing up stuff – eeww.
I just watched Whitney Houston’s mother’s performance on the BET awards show – is that what it was? Not sure any way, my opinion of Whitney Houston is that she wasted her incredible talent and gift on an idiot husband and a shit load of drugs. She was like a beautiful amazing person who became a shell of herself because of her addiction. She chose to do drugs, she chose to subject her children to that lifestyle and then died as a result of her stupid choices, and the worse part of it is that she left her daughter to pick up the pieces. Now that is fucked up. It’s sad and fucked up. I saw her mother sing – she is old and her voice is stressed, she is not professionally trained but she has a decent voice. I would say that as a performer she could not sing as beautifully as her daughter did, but she sang with love. I marveled at how she didn’t just break down during the performance. I cried for her, imagining her pain, her loss, her disbelief and finally having to accept that her baby, the little girl she gave birth to was gone. This is something I do often when a mother loses a child I feel for that mother, I feel for their pain and their loss. I can say, my daughter sings, she has an amazing voice; there would be no music in me if my daughter were not here with me. I marvel that Whitney’s mother could stand up and sing for her baby, and that is what she did, she sang for her daughter, not for the people watching, but for her child lost. I am amazed that she found the song in her heart, the voice without breaking down, if it were me my voice would be gone, my heart would be dead. I would rather be dead than to lose any of my children. I suppose that is my biggest fear, the fear that I have to give to God every day, I have to trust that he hold my babies in his hands and that he will protect them.
Being sick has made me have to stay in one place long enough to actually watch a few movies, haven’t really done it though. I am irritated because I always want to sit still long enough to watch a movie but the only one I have watched all the way through has been Cars 2 and my kid wasn’t even watching it with me, I only watched it cuz I love Mater, like Ta-mater, but without the Ta. Lol. I have watched too much crime TV, which is making me a bit paranoid, and itchy to go to back to class and train. I have been trying to read Bruce Lee’s book entitled, Bruce Lee the artist of life, edited by John Little. I find it interesting and boring at the same time. Much like going through someone’s personal thoughts and notes. Some of it seems to be repeated but a lot of it is written more as if he was writing to himself than to someone else. I am forcing myself to read it though, Bruce Lee was not only an excellent martial artist but a pretty good philosopher, although I like that he was actually just saying what other had already said, and that he admits it. Brian has his daughter Shannon Lee on his face book, I suppose I could have her too but I haven’t asked her to friend me. I am sure she pretty much will accept any martial artist or Bruce Lee fan that asks.