Category: Uncategorized

My photography is my passion. My passion is my photography. I get told that I should do something with them, I just don’t know where. I do have a website where I make calendars, mugs and etc. Take a gander at it, might be something you like and if there are photos that you see on here that you like let me know.

https://www.createphotocalendars.com/Shop/kreativekatink

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I wish I could see into the future so that this stress that I am feeling can be satisfied. People constantly asking me what is wrong, or how I am feeling they feel it too. You don’t know how I feel. You will never know how I feel. Just like I will never know what you are going through. And I can show you that I care and feel for you just as you can for me, but I do not want your pity. I do not want you to come around now, when you were never here in the first place. That is not how that works.

My health isn’t the greatest, and at 55 years old, I wish in the past I had taken care of myself better. As of right now, I have a rotator cuff tear, another tear and arthritis in my right shoulder. With years of diabetes issues, my kidneys are now a little bit compromised, that could cause issues down the road. I had a mammogram, they found three 1/2 cm masses in my breasts. 2 in the left and one in the right. I am waiting for an appointment for an ultrasound to see if they are cancerous or just cysts. The one in the right boob, has gotten bigger than the last exam I had. When they make you wait, your mind is in serious thought, and since I have no friends to hang out with while the wife is at work, I am left with my thoughts.

Not working, couldn’t anyway. Don’t have any income coming in, trying to sell my photography creations online, but nobody is buying anything, I don’t know why I even bother. I love taking photos, I am pretty good at it. I think. I don’t know why I am even writing this…..nothing for attention. Just need to release the pent up shit in my head and I am pretty good at writing. But that is all. For now…..

Originally Written July 2016

It’s sad to read all the threads on social media. Everyone arguing over right wings and left nuts, emails and a site that’s readily accessible to public edit, her versus it, why’s and when’s, who’s and what’s, ifs and buts, who’s on first, who’s more popular, who speaks their mind, and who has a mind let alone a brain. We are not staying in the present and find it better to argue over the past all the while neglecting the future.

We have things that are violently happening all over the world and all we are doing is arguing over who can make it better again, announcing that one single person can fix it and at the same time making a country great again. One tarnished by past mistakes is called names and raked through the coals while the western part of the nation is on fire. More fires likely to break out with this meltdown of climate control, but instead of trying to make it better we argue and point fingers, your fault.

We have lives who matter more than others because of the color of their skin. A life is not defined by skin color, your actions are. A color targeted because the life they lead, crying because they are treated wrongly, so fix it, change your life and make something of it don’t retaliate because you’re living your life in the past, it’s 2016 not 1966. We have cops with trigger fingers heavily armed from head to toe going up against a man, with a rap sheet a mile long, ending up in a pool of blood while his family are drowning for answers. And it doesn’t matter if he himself is armed or not, you disrespect, you break the law, you break a sweat, smile wrong, reach for an ID, or just being stupid, you’re going to be seen as just an outline on the pavement. Crying foul, peaceful protests ending in more violence and death, lives don’t matter if they are dead.

We are zombies, each of us. The best part of our pathetic lives happened when we were born within that first year where we were so innocent. Before we became our own person, before we could talk and walk, before our parents started molding us into the paths of love and hate. We were finding out about ourselves on our own, discovering our bodies, the differences between hot and cold, rights and wrongs, we learned it hurts when you fall down and how the joy of a toy made us happy. We sought arms of our loving mothers, warmth from our hairy fathers and spoils from cupboards of grandmother’s kitchens. Then we went out into the world and were greeted by mean streets, trees that murder kites, parade balloons slipping from our grasp, ice cream cones on the ground, and your once loving mother yelling at you to stop crying or she will give you something to cry about. Hands once gentle now stinging your soft baby bottom. I hate this. But love that. And at this point is where we change. This is when we are lied to, told No you can’t do that, don’t touch, stop making all that racket, be quiet, don’t talk to strangers, grow up and be a man, girls have cooties, and ewww boys.

We are thrown into school to learn more about where we came from, the birds and the bees, girls and periods, boys hands on their pee pees. We learn to read, we learn to write, we make friends and at the same time enemies. We form little groups and we allow only specific others to join. We are the snobs, the jocks, the weirdos, and the geeks. Some are often alone not having groups to fit in, isolated in fear, because they are different. Different because they are fat, poor, dress funny, look strange, or don’t have a mommy or daddy. Different because they aren’t the same color as me, or speak funny, act odd and we start the taught behavior of hate. No longer are your parents offering sound advice, you’re a big kid now you’re on your own.

Thrust into a huge open world where you can get anything you want, for a price. Where nothing is free even though there are documents saying otherwise. The air we breathe even comes with laws and mandates, the water that makes up most of our bodies and the planet comes with a price tag. Nature’s wonderment tainted by corporate greed. Hate growing more fierce. Then there’s love. Not even free. People die everyday for something or someone they love. Saying I LOVE YOU is supposed to be beautiful but most see it as ugly. That ugly enrages more hate. In that hate, people die or are injured. You can be out with friends and family, and in a moment your life is taken away by a bomb blast, a gun shot, a blade, planes, trains and automobiles, all because you’re hated, because it’s written somewhere that your life doesn’t matter. And we no longer have that right to defend ourselves because laws want to change that. So we elect people who promise us rainbows, equality, unity and a greater hope for the future, and in these people we entrust our lives. But they can’t always keep us safe, no matter how they try. It doesn’t make a bit of difference who we have running our country because social media will always have an opinion of what’s right and wrong. Then we are back to the arguing and the fighting and more lives that are supposed to matter are lost.

They’ll eventually find out and wonder why? If I unfriend you it’s because i have had it with your bullshit, with how you think you know me and what’s best for me, if you know what’s best for me then you don’t know me very well then. Maybe learn from it, not everyone thinks the same, i am very opinionated, i am not stupid, i have experienced a lot of shit in my 51 years, i am sensitive to alot of the tragedies against the lgbt community and i still can’t get over Pulse, that’s not going to happen to please you. If you knew me like many do, then you know that i get mad easily, i am especially pissed at those who voted Trump, just because he speaks his mind. Guess who the fuck else speaks their mind? This gal, i would have made a better president. But in reality, I am tired. Tired of seeing innocent lives taken so young, all these shootings and bombings, many of those killed could have grown up and had the cure for the ailments of the world, could have been presidents and law makers, prominent to make differences. Because we all know that making a difference is necessary to growth. But you cowards keep destroying that growth. Like history, you keep destroying that soon there will be nothing left. So i did the best thing for me and destroyed the history between you and myself, being associated with someone who thinks all that i just wrote is ok. That it will get better, it got better when i unfriended you.

Out of all the memorials at Pulse, this is the one I connect with the most.

Something on the television tonight about honoring victims of shootings and they mentioned Pulse Orlando.

I wrote this after all the memorials and celebrity song and dances and am still bothered by it today.

It’s great that they are honoring the 49 who passed away but I really wish all these tributes could have waited until the ones still at ORMC were sent home, there is still at least one in critical and a handful in stable conditions. There is no harm in waiting to honor. This is how I feel. The outpouring of love and support from all over the world has been overwhelming to those of us who live here in Orlando. Out of the ones who passed away the 49, I did not know, and I am not sure of the injured 53, either, but there could have been someone I knew of the other 200 people who were there that night, the ones who got out safely. I have friends who did know some who died and some that were there or injured. And I have Latinx friends and as a member of the LGBTQ community I was affected. But after all the names and pictures upon the TV screen, in the papers, and at the memorials, I knew them. I was affected not just by the crime committed upon my city but because of my spouse who was working the night at the hospital:

June 12, 2016, while I was watching the news about the tragic death of Christina Grimme at Plaza Live that took place two nights prior, I got a text from Chris, at 4:07am, who was working at a hospital that Grimme was taken to, “In case your watching the news. I am OK. Can’t talk. Love you.” I wasn’t watching the news but immediately turned it on and was devastated at what I was seeing four minutes from where I live.

I would get sporadic texts from her:

4:34am, “Big Mess”

5:32am, “I’m right in the action. It’s crazy” (at this point her security team is helping with the injured and dead, taking them out of the trucks and ambulances, bringing fresh beds to the people outside)

7:24am (she is usually home by this time) she texted “This was an experience, wow just wow. I don’t know when I am leaving.”

9:27am “Holy Shit I am tired. I’m hurting so bad. No clue when I am getting out of here.” “This is crazy”.

9:30am “Mentally exhausted”

I didn’t hear much from her until at around 3:30pm when she finally walked through the front door, exhausted. I gave her a huge hug…she told me that she had to get some rest because she had to be back at the hospital at 9pm.

We all went to bed the night before as we have so many sleeps prior, but when we woke up things had changed, for most it was just the beginning of what’s to come. (This is a prologue to a story I was going to write about something totally different, that just seemed to fit in with this perfectly). Parents were asleep, and were woken to phone calls, texts and sheer terror. 49 people lost their lives that night because a psycho with a gun decided to walk into Pulse and open fire, hundreds others were injured.

We turned our methods of media to see desperate mothers and friends looking for their sons, daughters and significant others. Not knowing where they are, if they are alive or dead. Orlando looked like a war zone had broken out as media were everywhere fighting for the perfect story. Police cars and helicopters, sirens and flight resonated for days. Streets cut off and we are hearing death counts and more about the shooter, and that is all I will say about him. You know the details.

The world came together in unity upon our city, memorials sprang to attention, rainbows and love, songs and dances…from every corner of the world people gave Orlando their best wishes.

President Obama and VP Biden came to Orlando and offered much needed sentiment, I can’t imagine the current administration doing it with the grace and dignity, that Obama did. Say what you want about him, I don’t care. But the clown we have now, he never showed any kind of emotion at all about what happened in Orlando, he did manage to tweet:

He never came to show any kind of respect and being on a campaign that year for presidency you would think he’d have any common courtesy, oh wait, never mind….but Hillary Clinton came, not made to but she wanted to come, she was suppose to be someplace else but she came to us. We were greeted warmly from prominent people from other countries, as well.

Luxembourg Prime Minister Xavier Bettel

Orlando, the City Beautiful, overcame the ugliness of the nature of the crime and will never forget those we lost and though I no longer call Orlando my home, it will always be instilled within me forever. This is still not my full story, it will be detailed more in my memoir. But for now, this is how I feel, this is going to always be how I feel, till the day I die.

#ORLANDO UNITED #ORLANDO STRONG

Super Bowl LIII was an American football game between the American Football Conference (AFC) champion New England Patriots and the National Football Conference (NFC) champion Los Angeles Rams to determine the champion of the National Football League (NFL) for the 2018 season. The Patriots defeated the Rams by the score of 13–3, tying the Pittsburgh Steelers for the most Super Bowl championships with six. The game was played on February 3, 2019, at Mercedes-Benz Stadium in Atlanta, Georgia, the first time the Super Bowl had been played at that stadium. It was a rematch of Super Bowl XXXVI, in which the Patriots, led by second-year head coach Bill Belichick and quarterback Tom Brady, defeated the Rams, who played in St. Louis at the time, 20–17, and won their first Super Bowl. This was the third Super Bowl in Atlanta, which previously hosted Super Bowl XXVIII in 1994 and Super Bowl XXXIV in 2000 at the Georgia Dome.