My Mother has Passed.

On sunday, November 11th (three days before my birthday) my mother passed from this world. I can very well say I had the arrogance to think before that I wouldn't be as sad as I was if she did. I was expecting it to happen sometime for she had very few healthy habits, however, the pain caused by her passing has affected me to even this day.

I suffer from insomnia problems anyway, but thinking there was something I could have done has been eating at my mind and forcing me to stay awake till 5am or later... I'm trying to fix it but it is really hard. My extended family on my mothers side (for the most part) has now been cut out of my life, since they tried to defend someone who didn't deserve it. My mother, when she was a child, was abused and molested by her step-dad. Some fucker named 'jim'. (not even changing that, I fucking hate this guy.) Anyway several of the family members gathered attempted to fight for his 'right to mourn'. He had no fucking right to mourn the person he so tortured in life, to her dying day she still had nightmares...

Well, the wake went differently and those of us with hearts went to celebrate her at a Denny's, which was a small but meaningful ceremony. She has been cremated, and her box now rests with dad, who sleeps with it under his arm, it makes my heart heavy to see how this had hurt my father, and how it has hurt me.

I don't tend to cry cause I'm so used to being in pain, but I can't help but cry every now and than when I think about her...

The 'Carneys'

So, there's basically two classes of gypsy, the wandering salesman and the performer. But oh holy fuck have you not seen some of these people. At the drum circle we get people who like to do circus acts to either draw attention to themselves or legitimately practice (and with how these fucking people dress and act, I'm gonna call it safe to assume the former.)

It's not like those of us who run the stands HATE them, in fact these technicolor douche-bags seem to drum up business. So what's my complaint here? They never have any fucking money, they sometimes bring stereo's down and blast the most heinous music ever and think that they're the shit. (Well, you got one word out of that sentence down you fucking hipsters, now go eat it.) Also, they tend to have one of two attitudes I've noticed:

Carney Attitude #1: Pretty relaxed guy, likes training in all fields of circus acts, usually sticks to the tightrope during the day and switches to fire spitting at night. Friendly, but consistently broke as hell. More than active in the hopes of either catching a ladies attention with his 'skills', more than lonely when that NEVER works.

Carney Attitude #2: Self loathing hipster who claims to be a gypsy, a hippie, etc. Constantly whining when not the center of attention and ideally the most retarded fucking people at the drum circle. (I.E. Just hipsters with bullfuck attention problems, your daddy not hug you enough? Or did he 'hug' your insides too much?)

Either way you slice it, you got a 'Carney' and I know it doesn't seem fair to lump in the second group since its just a handful of fucktards taking down the whole group but I digress.

I have a story involving the second group, Judy (Another salesman a friend and a great old lady, lol) was at the park selling as per the usual, when a kid (no older than 18 I', positive) walks past our stands. This guy was pretty much SCREAMING to the world for someone to beat his ass down. He was wearing a pink tutu, a cat in the hat, uh, hat and had a goddamn boombox playing what I can only guess was dubstep, or someone beating a cat to death with a seagull. He was drowning out the drums the hippies were so fervently trying to make louder than the sounds of the shit he was playing. Judy don't take that shit man, she walked up the queen of fairies, yanked the cords out of his stereo instantly shutting it up. Believe me when I say the WHOLE park got quiet and looked over. She got right in the guys face, told him this was the DRUM CIRCLE and to get the fuck out of the park. He refused, plugged his crappy music back in and got his face smashed open later on in the night by some people who caught him alone at the bathrooms. I ain't saying it was any of us, but he totally fucking deserved what he got.

Drum-roll Please...

Hi, this is my first post so I hope you found your way here on purpose.

Let me start off by telling you a few things about what this blog is and why I'm making it. I've lived my life in what I would call 'squalor' never really being sure of what's going to happen next, anything and everything including meals and a roof over my head have been a constant worry as far back as I can remember. (or at least as far back as I care to remember.)

It's not really that bad, I have had some great times on the way, the travelling, the late nights, the sights and sounds of new places constantly being seen, and all the hippies.

Oh, that's right before I get any further I ought to tell you of my family's 'profession', we're travelling merchants. Nothing big, just clothing, jewelry, and sometimes even rocks (okay, shiny rocks like turquoise and things but still its just a rock).

Anyway, it's not that great of a life, not that bad either by any standards but I digress. I suppose it all started before I was born really, my father had come from a small family down south that moved further inland to 'live the american dream' and it was at that point he made a THE life-altering decision to run off on his own and be a 'free spirit'. Funny how something as simple as an unborn life can be altered so drastically far before it has a chance to be, funnier still how I almost prefer it this way.

He bummed around for awhile, not sure of where or when to move on, all the while making friends and losing them just as fast (and without regard I might add). Such was the life right? It almost surprises me that he wasn't drafted into following 'Fish' around the country, than again I don't know whether he did or not. Eventually he fell into a certain living, one I follow and probably will until death just as he will, that of a travelling salesman of trinkets and crafts (okay, I padded it a bit but that's technically what we are).

Alright, fuck it. Call us gypsy's.

So he became a gypsy, hand-crafting quality products in the good ol' u s of a. A decision which gave me the wonderful, regular, mediocre with some better parts, life I have today. Why is this relevant? Well, come on even Star Wars had a back-story man, I'm just setting the stage.


So he went, selling things to get by and moving around more than a cocaine fueled free-runner with restless leg syndrome (which actually would be pretty fun to see, if you have a video please send it to me). He met my mother while visiting a shit-hole called Utah and they fell deeply in love (I assume) and had three children together, all the while moving about the country and spreading their wares, messages and stories to anyone who would listen. It was a peaceful life that could have been a cute love story in a book or something.

But, and here's the kicker: LIFE WAS SHIT!

And that's why I'm writing this blog, I'll tell you all the stories, the places the people and the details man. You just gotta wait and see what's going to be said, right now I'm a little high and very tired, so that'll have to be the end for now.