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Thunder Will Certainly Bring Lightening
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Thunder Will Certainly Bring Lightening I thought i would write a short that is more personal and not the usual rant and rave about how screwed society is and how everyone should be include in one large group instead of several subsets where easily becomes a finger pointing war declaring that you are the most important society and those sick crossdressers should be admitted for mental reevalution. I suppose that since i am down in the least important group and probably the smallest and unorganized and unrecognized group because we know how sick we are and hide behind doors committing horrid sexual acts and are ashamed even tell family members how great i in a sexy pair of 6 inch sandal heels with my<b> toes </font></b>painted so beautiful. My biggest fear is when the world becomes overpopulated and war is no longer viable, i am scared that individual groups well be analyzed and determine which are harmful and should not exist and get strange visitors in the night. Maybe i am a little paranoid but it seems every take over by a group justifies a means of eradicating another group. Oops i did it again. Sorry for taking a stab at a made up monopoly game society that always confuses the hell out of me and painting my nails always helps calm my nerves. One other thing i enjoy and find great comfort in is severe thunder, especially the ones so loud it almost breaks windows and love to count the seconds for lightening to follow. you can almost track and know how far away the storm front i just by the quickness of the bright flash. I began to wonder the other day why i love severe storms that can sometimes create destuction and even have a deadly tornado hiding in its mist. I started thinking maybe i relate to tornadoes because the hide in secret and suddenly emerge with vengeance. No this can't be the reason because the last one i saw on the tube wasn't wearing a skirt and wasn't ashamed to show itself and was ready to hammer down on any person thinking they were more powerful. the tornado is definetly not weak, maybe mentally ill, but when it comes out of hiding we all know at that moment is in charge. Right on tornado show those weaklings the don't know shit. i love to sit out on the porch, i open all my windows to maximize the presence and smell of rain, and the stronger the storm the calmer i am and just love the event. I have never felt threatened or scared even when the crossdressing tornado comes out of the dressing room, so what gives? This may sound like a person grabbing for straws but in my deep and intense investigation i can assume originates from my childhood experiences with storms. Back in the day before all the fancy pancy high tech information at you fingertip a loud horn would sound telling everyone to head to the basement just in case that pest bully of a tornado may come out wildly tap dancing in heels of destruction. It takes me forever to get to my point but by elaborating every detail that pops up in this mentally deficient brain of mine it help me get the feeling i need to discover why i find pleasure in some activities while others stress me to no end. trust me i am also trying to figure out my displeasures also so i can hopefully be a more understanding and compassionate person despite painting my nails in beautiful head turning delight. So is. My mom when hearing the Paul Revere signal that the enemy was approaching we were rounded up like real little troupers and march the basement that was fortified in heavy stone and concrete that would stand up to any punk tornado. I guess maybe the tornado wasnt' the toughest on the bloch. That wall never fell like Jericho. After getting down to the heart of the fort was a heavy wooden bench that served as a work bench. That work bench was made of heavy timber, you just don't see things made like that anymore i would bet that even if the tornada decided to pick up that heavy bench and throw a half a ,mile would probably stay in one piece. So we crawled under that tough sob and felt even more protected. But that wasn't the reason for my love of the storm because my mom certainly was not relieved of worry and never ever settle down until the horn stopped singing. My love for the storm and became a friend of mine because brought the family together in one place for sometimes a couple of hours. We felt more secure all packed in like sardines and forced us to acknowledge one another and gave me the sense we all became one unit and cemented together the same purpose and let us know we were all equal and all of us deserved a chance of survival. Being the middle constantly wanted be loved and noticed, this event was very close me acquiring that sense of worth. I felt like i was a part of a loving and caring family. So when i storm comes brewing in i now believe takes me back those childhood events that always made me feel like a part of the group. Do you want know why i like ramble on and make a story out of very little? My dad could be a little short tempered and if something got messed with he usually came to the black sheep and asked me if i did it. This was my moment to capture a bit of my dad's attention so rather than give a yes or no answer i spun a long story out that went over every possible detailed about how it may have occurred. i liked to throw in a lot of curve balls and got very creative with words to keep his interest but also got him to spend more time with me. He never got mad at my stories, i think he actually enjoyed hearing the tale i was about to tell. so thanks dad you gave me a creative skill in word manipulation to keep you wanting to hear. I would make a very good pr person in politics but i would never manipulate words if it ended in a made up lie and classified it as fiction. Until next time, stay true, be you and be safe, hugs Jennifer 
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