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Wisps Posts Tagged as 'Mother'

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Well, I wasn't going to learn how to read or write from gangsters. 16-May-2024
Having reading and writing skills allowed me to relax when I started kindergarten. I spent my extra time eating paste and drawing pictures that disturbed my teacher. I would proudly show her my work and she always said the same thing. The art was good but the atmosphere was depressing. Couldn't I add a sun somewhere? I added the sun once and it looked more depressed than the scary atmosphere. Adding a sun didn't add any to my personal life. The teacher wouldn't let it go and involved Pazuzu. She attended and I had to translate. I basically had to repeat an insult to myself in two languages. Mother made it worst. She didn't understand what I/teacher was saying. The teacher showed her my paintings and she didn't understand. She didn't see anything unusual. Then something dawned on her that changed her mind. My son is embarrassing me and everyone is looking at me like I'm Pazuzu. She didn't quite understand the conversation but she agreed with the adults to watch me closely and get me some help. I'm sure I got smacked a few times walking home. "...and don't ever bring me to these people again! They never invited her.

At home her mind raced between screams and, bingo... she figured out the conversation. There was something gay about that picture, I know it! And they know it! And I need to do something about it.

She labeled my art faggoty and never moved on. She would dump the pictures I dedicated to her from school and yelled that I would never make money off art. She had me fail art school by not providing me the tools to get assignments properly done. As adults Pazuzu thought it amusing to boast about my cousins' artistic achievements. They were different, though. One made signs and tombstones while the other wasted his art in jail. Manly stuff. She never mentioned our dilemma with art. It was Pazuzu popping out to stop me from dreaming. 15-May-2024
They were called novelas and they were available in every grocery store and pharmacy. They didn't cost much and the ladies felt they were keeping their favorite celebrities in their handbag. The stores also had drawn comic books, little books and Betty and Veronica. As not to look like an awful mother she would always ask me if there was anything to add and I always chose a comic book. Even though her hate for art was overwhelming she bought me the comic. They were only a few cent and it would keep me out of her hair. I eventually graduated to books and became fascinated with little books. They were palm sized books that didn't take up much space and were the original tales of famous folklore. The Little Mermaid's original story was heartbreaking and befit. Pinocchio origins were even scarier. I felt I was reliving my predator experiences all over again. Everyone wanted to fuck the puppet. I'm not sure about Moby Dick but I learned a lot about bears. When I unpacked my first comic book it was an orgasm of brain activity. My aunt had already taught me how to read english and spanish, I just needed to practice it, memorize words and their meaning. Mother acquiesced more than I thought because she would junk them if they felt untouched. Fuck collecting classics and making money afterwards for this child. Dude, before this I was reading the cereal box. Swanson's frozen meals had a pop-up story to tell and I devoured it. 14-May-2024
Our mothers had the equivalent, which was a comic book based on their favorite soaps with real pictures instead of drawings to make it look grown-up. 14-May-2024
Comics! 09-May-2024
But, there is hope... 09-May-2024
They can take their children to the library but they won't. There is nothing for a mother to do at the library. They can't even pick up a man there. Most of them are squeaky and the others are dusty, none can pay the rent, fix things or fuck. 08-May-2024
Single non-working mothers don't have the space or the money to buy their children books. Besides, they collect dust and they're not reading to babies! Who has the time? 08-May-2024
CC is the worst. I spend all my time correcting them and half the time abandoning them because I'm misspelling now, too. Am I here to "rate" them or rape them? 07-May-2024
Thanks to elite comic book shaming, americans can't spell. 07-May-2024

Tags: Environment, Experience, Family, Mental Health, Mother, Neglect, Opinion, Politics, Treatment

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16-May-2024


 

Audience Reactions to The Exorcist:

"It's been reported that once inside the theater, a number of moviegoers vomited at the very graphic goings-on on the screen. Others fainted, or left the theater, nauseous and trembling, before the film was half over. Several people had heart attacks, a guard told me. Sep 26, 2023

‘She got on my nerves’

‘Alpha parent’ says she killed 5-year-old boy because he brought snacks into bed

Discover the Perfect Anti-Mother's Day Gift

15-year-old girl arraigned in deadly Queens stabbing that left 17-year-old dead

When my mother found out that people were heart attacking, vomiting and dying at screenings of The Exorcist, in the 70's, she rushed me an invitation, especially after family members warned her I was too young. She was hoping some of that bad karma would befall me. She thought it was hilarious. She didn't understand a word of it (she doesn't speak english) but she's been acting like Pazuzu ever since. 07-Apr-2024

Tags: Equality, Errattic, Family, Feminism, Funny, Hate, Mental Health, Monsters, Mother, Murder, Treatment, Women In Charge, Youth

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10-May-2024


 

The only reason I thought I had a good mother was because she kept telling me so. In actuality, I've never met one. 02-Apr-2024

Tags: Abuse, Children, Hypocrisy, Mental Health, Mother, Treatment, Women In Charge

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02-Apr-2024


 

Mom drowned her 3 children

Mom Crushes 4-Month-Old Son’s Skull

Kris Jenner Disgusts Candace Owens

Furious mother jumps on school bus

Woman Charged After Baby Dies While 'Co-Sleeping'

Judge denies bail for woman who allegedly pushed 3-year-old nephew into lake

Panettiere claims ex is REFUSING to let their daughter travel to California

Ant Anstead worries son Hudson is being ‘exploited’ by Christina Haack

Bus driver facing assault charge after hitting mother with bus doors

Couple Charged with Murder of Adopted 8-Year-Old Son

Every time society expounds on the greatness of a woman, an abusive mother rises to power, clips a child's wings and tears his heart out. 12-Sep-2022

Tags: Celebrity, Child Abuse, Children, Consideration, Family, Feminism, Mother, Mothers, Murder, Neglect, Parenting, Porn, Punishing, Respect, Showing Off, Society, Violence, Women In Charge

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02-Oct-2022


 

Mother: or a whore. 16-Jul-2022
Mother: you never give a man a compliment unless he's dying. 21-Jul-2021

Tags: Advice, Cheating, Latino, Mother, Parenting 101, Relationships

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16-Jul-2022


 

I was a zombie for two years. 15-May-2022
I bit into one when alone with the spirits. It tasted like soap. 15-May-2022
I didn't believe a word of it. All week she screamed "not to touch her soaps" and almost every day I struggled not to taste them. They looked yummy. 15-May-2022
My mother was tasked with bathing in soaps that looked much like Halloween candy to complete the ritual. It washed away the stains/bad spirits. 15-May-2022
Magic or fucked up shit? 14-May-2022
A black woman became possessed, my mother released her rage and I thought I was in a dark Disney movie. 14-May-2022
She didn't want the voices in her head to interfere with her mothering. 14-May-2022
My mother was. 14-May-2022
I was not the subject. 14-May-2022
I was present at an exorcism. 14-May-2022

Tags: Children, History, Latino, Magic, Mental Health, Mother, Myself, Parenting, Puerto Rican, Women In Charge, World Peace

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15-May-2022


 

The best way not to be regarded as a mother is not to become one. 22-Dec-2021

Tags: Gender, Ignorance, Irony, Mother, Sex Identity, Trans, Who Cares!

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22-Dec-2021


 

The lady was right. 22-Aug-2021
My mother raised me to believe that lies were a sin while coaching me to always lie to daddy. 04-Nov-2019

Tags: Abuse, Hypocrisy, Mother

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22-Aug-2021


 

The idea of sharing neighborly grief and sentimentality with food is a common tradition that our family never followed. Dished food was constantly being brought to our home with gestures of warmth and or greetings yet remained untasted. At funeral gatherings my mother would throw out the stranger's food and keep only the family's. When the strangers inquired about their food my mother showed them the empty dishes. "It was so good the people gobbled it up." There was always an excuse. She didn't like what they said, they appeared unclean, smelled, had cats, were old, of another race or white. Mrs. Brady would have no chance at delivering "other food" to our mouths.

Our mother turned eating out into shopping for a restaurant. She wanted to make sure it was clean and comfortable and that more than two people were eating there. She didn't want to appear uncool.

Before she died, my stepfather's mother made some of his favorite dishes. We drove to pick them up. They were neatly packed in containers and my stepfather was excited to bring the food home and share it with us but mother smelled something foul in the car on our way home. I smelled nothing. Is it coming from those containers?! Throw them out! Those containers are not coming inside my house! They're poison. Throw them out or you're not getting back in the car! My stepdad deflated as he dumped the last taste of home and I felt so bad for him. It's his mother's food and he's the only one obligated to eat it and if he wants to relive a fond memory, he should goddam be able to. Mother! Go into another room while he gobbles it down. I'll clean it up. I told her that and she yells at me "yeah, but you don't know these people." (Spells and shit.)

I've never held to her philosophy and as an adult enjoyed much food by hospitable strangers and neighbors and obviously never died. My mother was afraid someone else would usurp her talent. 01-May-2021

Tags: Family, Food, Mental Health, Mother, Myself, Women In Charge

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01-May-2021


 

I was under 25 living a fantasy gay lifestyle with my perfect partner in Brooklyn. I lived 20 blocks from my mother and my newly appointed stepfather. It was like living in a colorized version of "I Love Lucy." Yes, I was as corny as all of you once.

One evening.

Mother calls hysterical. We had to come over. We were just there. What happened?

Rewind: my stepfather wanted to be more seductive for my mother so he called us for advice. My Russian advised him to get her flowers, lay them out, get a thong and strip for her. I agreed it might be fun for her. It was all the craze and my stepdad had the body.

FF: a family dinner was the event where he decided to put sexy daddy in motion. I was flabbergasted but I didn't want to embarrass him and or hear the wrath of mom. I watched as he stripped to a thong and ran her out into the kitchen. He automatically proceeded to dance and strip for my lover and I. Dude, my lover was getting into it. I slithered into the kitchen before my stepdaddy lap dance, checked on mom and she was furious. "That fuckin' maricon." Men don't do that shit. I'm humiliated. I apologized and told her it was my fault and that I thought it would be cute. I didn't know he was going to take it so seriously. She softened, laughed and whispered that "he used to be a bouncer at gay clubs. That's where he learnt the moves. (I didn't know bouncers had to bounce.) He says he never did anyone there but after today I'm not so sure." My mother accepted it as a joke, stepfather got dressed, we ate hardy, laughed ridiculously and went home.

The call.

Mother: Something's wrong with your stepfather, he's beating himself up,"como un loco." I think it's an army thing.

I was what? I returned to mother's and he was indeed beating himself to a pulp. He was punching himself and body slamming his head against the walls. We restrained my bloody step and stored him in a room away from my mother.

Step: your mother... (he couldn't speak)

Me: why were you punching yourself dad?

Step: (crying) because she pushed all my buttons and I wanted to hit her. I made a promise to myself that I would never hit another woman, ever, so instead of punching her, I punched myself.

Later.

Mother: pendejo. He really is an idiot isn't he? (She laughs. Ok. I laughed too.) I would rather he hit me and prove that he's a man instead of acting like this. (More laughter.) Your father knew how to corral a woman. I liked that. That's the kind of man I want. Not this. You have some of that too. (Ha!)

I asked he if she got off on it and she said yes. Out of the blue...she admits Osama Bin Laden gave her wet dreams. "There is something about that man. Don't you think?" (I was speechless. Why is she telling me this shit?)

I've taken her to countless hospitals with boyfriend injuries and interceded physically to save her life and she gets off on it? The hurt, the police, the pity, the crying, the worry, the danger, the attention, the fraud, the violence all for a tickle? 05-Mar-2021

Tags: Family, Marriage, Mental Health, Mother, Myself, Puerto Rican, Violence, Women In Charge

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05-Mar-2021


 

Mother's stratagem to keep a working daddy closer is to never let him know he was doing a banging good job. "Make them sweat, make them wonder but if you want to keep 'em don't ever tell them how great they are." I got it. The more a man thinks he's great the more chances of fulfilling the crippling desire to open other people's presents. Irk that one good spot left in his brain and he'll keep coming back around to try to figure it out. I can see a woman's idea of entrapment there. It suddenly occurred to me to accidentally apply it to a guy I was dating. He was daddy perfection and ejaculatory squish. After an aerobic session he asked me to concur that the sex was one of our best. Even though it was, I told him I had better. He topped himself every single time and I always answered the same. Why did I do that? I sadly dumped him because he was a camper. He kept threatening that we couldn't extend our relationship unless I went camping with him. Black daddies and city Puerto Ricans don't do woods. It doesn't make sense. He was one of the greatest but I don't camp.

My step-father must wonder with every dying breath, "why did l try so hard? She was never satisfied." 21-Dec-2020

Tags: Gay, Life, Marriage, Mental Health, Mother, Myself, Parenting 101, Sex, Women In Charge

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21-Dec-2020


 

An effect of sexual abuse is that you inherit a victim's persona even if you've surpassed it and predator abusive comprehension. The survivors are damaged goods pretending to blend into a world that's flashed forward around them. Our vulnerabilities succumb to the first clever wolf that help incorporate us into the new world so that we fit in and hate it. To cope, we become the victims they are. They are our daddy saviors. We think that the next one will fix what the other one did because this one is different. At least half of my LTRs were straight men with penchant for wee ones. They were not in denial about their sexuality they were just hiding. I happened to hit the jackpot.

My mother finished ex violence with more violence. The end to my abuse was to sucker punch the croc in the middle of Manhattan for stalking me at work and everywhere else. He fell down as a grandmother yelled "yeah, punch that old motherfucker!" She didn't even know our business. Everyone surrounded me to make sure I was all right and he ran off bloodied and embarrassed. My mother and I never saw our stalkers again, my mother's broken bones and heart healed, her ex's bones got WWF broken and I moved back to my mother's house. I re-encountered my mother's ex, riding on an unlighted subway car after work. I wasn't sure until we descended from the tunnels and out into outdoor light. It was him, he had healed and was seething. His eyes bore through me and I felt a chill and a scent. Every flicker of light cast a Hitchcock shadow as I froze for fuck's sake. I had beat him once but it was a tough battle. Illegal drugs made him Hulkean. Even lesbian cop kickassers couldn't bring him down. He stared eerily at me through the longest ride of my life. (I will not bore you with rest.) 27-Oct-2020

Tags: Conclusion, Gay, History, LGBTQ, Life, Mother, Myself, Relationships, Representation, Sex

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27-Oct-2020


 

I came out to my mother when I was 17 years old and no longer residing in her household. I didn't expect a good reaction so I called her on a public phone and announced it to her. She cried, became quiet and told me she suspected it but that she loved me, no matter what. I didn't have to lie to mother anymore. It was freeing. I visited her a few days later. She had time to absorb and ponder having a gay son. She cried again, I asked why and she said because being gay meant I was destined for a miserable life. That's impossible, it was such an overwhelming feeling to be me. I had to prove her wrong. She asserted conditions for my new identity: no meeting of "my men," I must continue to have a masculine presence, especially around family and don't get sick. I ignored her, introduced her to every one, told as much of the family as I could bear and kept my masculinity in check.

My mother recently confided to me that she used to receive dick pics from my croc daddy in the US mail while I was living with him. I thought, he might have done it as revenge for my unwillingness to absorb giant dick pain and or tricking him into being a gay bottom. When I took him to Gay Pride he cried because he thought I mistook him for one of those. He was straight. His shit was no joke but he was. A child molester was my educator and entrance into the gay world. I also figured my mother and I were even. Her boyfriend tried to brutally rape me. Mother's boyfriend was two years older than me, my croc daddy was 55. Our boyfriends shared the same culture, understood the nuances that make people vulnerable, and always seemed to be creepily plotting something sexual for us. Neither man represented our community. They were perverts sidling up to mommies so they could play with their children. (Now I know why she tried to cut him out of my photo albums.) I understand her comments and I realized her concern. My gay education came from perverts. The community hates itself more than the media loves it. Clicks work for a minute, the families we create are fake and we all die alone. We need less "Boys In The Band" depression and more gay reality awareness so we can come up with better coping mechanisms. Not smile at weirdos taking advantage of us because of politically correct etiquette.

I apologized to my mother. My croc stalked me, stole from us, used me, beat me up, tied me up and raped me. Afterwards, he thought of not releasing me because he was afraid I would kill him. You bet your life! But I had no choice, I begged for my life, stroked the psycho's ego and he loosened one arm while he Soniced out of the apt. I was stalked by my ex, my mother was stalked by her ex and I was stalked by both exes. I spent a lifetime trying to prove mother's sentiment wrong but in the end, she was right.

(Pic of my daddy croak included. Mother destroyed my croak dic picks but y'all can ask mother if she kept her copy.) 26-Oct-2020

Tags: Abuse, Awareness, Environment, Family, Fear, Gay, Heritage, Latin, LGBTQ, Machismo, Men, Mental Health, Mother, Myself, Psychology, Sex, Treatment, Violence

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26-Oct-2020


 

"All" men are perverts! 16-Sep-2020

Tags: Advice, Mother, Parenting 101, She's Right!

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16-Sep-2020


 

Porn and masturbation were two ills that my mother expunged from her household.

When cum commenced squirting from my penis I was as aghast as Carrie when she saw menstruation blood for the first time. I was so concerned that I reluctantly asked my mother for her medical opinion. She had me pull my drawers down, pull it out, hold it while she examined it, kept the answer in her head and slapped me away. "Ah, it's nothing. Leave me alone."

The first time I saw porn was my mother's bedroom dresser drawer, hidden underneath the aroma of the cleanest sheets on the planet. It was 101 ways to please a lover. Every position highlighted with a photograph. That did not look like the abuse sex I was having. It looked beautiful. My mother was a hypocrite.

I was taking a bath one day and I stood up to use the rubber shower hose, cleaning my specials... when mother walked in. "That's never going to happen in my house." A beating with a rubber hose was enacted and I sort of accepted it because even though I didn't masturbate at that time, I knew I had before and she knew it too! It was past due punishment.

Boyfriends were not immune to the rule. My stepfather would set up appointments at the nearest brothel just in case my mother got sick (on her period.) He "too" did not believe in jerking off. I knew this because I had to interfere when sex workers started calling my mother for payment. Of course, they're still together.

"I aways feel guilty after I come." 18-Jul-2020

Tags: Mother, Myself, Porn, Sex, Women In Charge

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18-Jul-2020




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