Mother Theresa the Martyr

…my gift unto thee…
Gracie Willams

Ever since I can remember…my Adopt-A-Mom; Mother Theresa has been, well, how does one say it nicely? She has been the hair across my ass to which no salon will remove.
Trust me, I’ve tried. Of all the areas I which to leave blank, other than my mind and soul, my pubic arena and my since of timing, the area in most need of cleansing, Mother Theresa.
She has out and out disowned me for all the stupid mistakes I’ve made. Well, guess what Mum, I’ll probably make a shit load more.
In an attempt to be in sync with Mum, physically and sexually, I’ve asked myself the following question:
What is the greatest self sacrifice I can do for humankind?
Mother Teresa, the true martyr, accomplished many things; a self-less dedicated women in pursuit of the betterment of society. In total disregard of self, she became a beacon to many discarded and poverty stricken societal mishaps and human miscreation’s.

Mandated by mania and driven into martyrdom via trailer and it’s trash.

So, I’ve thrown away my pointless education? I tossed down the shitter any attempt at originality in my folly for photo’s of dead trees. My sexual treasure map reads like Teddy Bundy’s diary and, well, I’ve just about given up on any pride from inner beauty.
Yet, I rake and I study to be a liaison to those poor unfortunates. An agent with no governing agency.
How is it then that my self sacrifice pays off my poorly directed Bachelor’s of Not so Fine Art? How is it that tax payers, poor and not quite so poor, are willing to pay for my relocation?
What the fuck? I’m confused enough about this selflessness crap!
Isn’t a society, small or large, better off, choosing it’s own particular needs? Does it not behoove Winchester Virginia, the Bronx or Anywhere, Impoverished, USA; to make those decisions for themselves?
And, didn’t I read in my sloppy way somewhere that FEMA on a whole is an over fed canker sore wrapped around US debt? Didn’t we really make a mess of things in the last two disasters?
I sit at a desk on occasion and listen to old and young hippies wanting to make me a seedling from their blooming righteous flower. I sit and don’t comprehend half of what I read. I have a learning disorder for Christ‘s sake. I meander and study over righteous thoughts and think, I have no single minded purpose and I am an addict who is unwilling to let go.
I don’t pay taxes. Or, at least, I don’t think I do. Father Floyd takes care of that for me. But if I did, I’d be pissed that martyrdom isn’t taxed!
Peacefully Yours-
Ambien, not by the Grace of God, Grace!