So obviously a day came in my life when I asked myself, “Who the fuck am I really?”  Through many years of adventurous discovery I found myself.

I am HOPE.

Although not the name given me by my parental units.   I am HOPE.   No joke.   I am the ever living,never letting go, always feeling, loving you, holding on to that last glimmer of……… HOPE.

My mother named me Tonya Hope. In my humble opinion Tonya was a trailer trash stretch of her imagination for a cool “new” name but the name Hope was a gift from the universe.  Yes folks I can love myself that fucking much.   My name was gifted to me from God.  It really is a meant to be kind of thing. Not everyone can say that. I have the uncanny ability to forgive, to love unconditionally, to move forward to a better future with a light always burning in the distance.  I don’t care how depressed I have found myself in my life, I was never void of some idea of a brighter future.  That is why I have always been a cutter and not a slicer. Gotta love that imagery.

Wikipedia says,

Hope is a belief in a positive outcome related to events and circumstances in one’s life. Hope is the feeling that what is wanted can be had or that events will turn out for the best.^[1] Hopefulness is somewhat different from optimism in that hope is an emotional state, whereas optimism is a conclusion reached through a deliberate thought pattern that leads to a positive attitude.

Poem for Hope
A Hong Kong Proverb As long as we have hope,
we have direction,
the energy to move,
and the map to move by.
We have a hundred alternatives,
a thousand paths and infinity of dreams.
Hopeful, we are halfway to where we want to go;
Hopeless, we are lost forever.

“Hope” is the thing with feathers—
That perches in the soul—
And sings the tune without the words—
And never stops—at all—

And sweetest—in the Gale—is heard—
And sore must be the storm—
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm—

I’ve heard it in the chillest land—
And on the strangest Sea—
Yet, never, in Extremity,
It asked a crumb—of Me.

Emily Dickinson

So what name do you give yourself?

A sad and lost boy desperate for an angel to save him

+

A young woman sheltered so completely, she appeared angelic

=

a date rape

and a remainder of ONE (small innocent female)

Not wanted from conception……. abort abort abort! the banshees screech.

Lies  told in the name of God……  Sinners! Sinners! Sinners !

A future of pain and sorrow set forth before birth

innocence scavenged at 3 years………a family tradition continues

change only brings more predators

then vultures came in masks of friendly deception

the babe was given no knowledge or weapons of defense

add the wolves devouring more than their “share”

she was left for dead

but her heart never stopped beating, her mind never stopped searching, her spirit never stopped soaring

She clawed and she scraped and she prayed and she fought and she cried and she forgave and she loved and she never let go of the soul created, even before conception.

The spirit that was breathed into her by her maker, before all the pain, before all the defiling she was pure and loved.

A love that is bigger and louder and brighter than any darkness this world can dish out.

I always hated math anyway.

Let me start by saying I’m so wonderfully intelligent that God blessed me with a 5 head to fit all the brain matter in one spectacularly shiny spot. Oh and I absolutely love dying my hair.

I have eaten 2 waffles with natural peanut butter and cream cheese with a squish of honey every morning for the last 2 months. Cause I like to beat a dead horse. Someday I will stop eating this and move onto something else just as odd and beat that horse too. Its my way damn it, so fucking deal with it. Get it? OK? Good! I’m glad we see eye to eye on this one.

I’m the type of person to research and learn as much as humanly possible about something before I take it on in my life. Any of my online group friends may tell you I don’t give up till I feel qualified. I am sure I have annoyed many people with all my inquiries. I eventually felt I had enough info to properly care for a pregnant dog (then her puppies came) from a shelter. She and pups lived with me till they weaned (cause I’m big on the breastfeeding stuff) and we got those little shit machines out of our house and into loving homes somewhere else.

I love me some pussy. No not that kind of pussy. If I meant that I would say Vagina. On that subject I do think mine is pretty damn awesome.

I have a big bulging belly. I think it has something to do with all the human beings that grew in that area. Plus eating a lot of really good food and drinking excellent beer. I have no issues with my body. I’m quite happy in it. I like it to be strong so I do work out, and eventually the truth of that will show in the pics, but I’m not trippin. If you ever catch me blogging about some anorexic bullshit, I’m deserving of a reality check or possible just swift kick in the ass and good imported beer.

I make my kids forage for their food. I think I may have mentioned this before. I know I sound like the worst mother in the world. Different strokes and all.

Here we see I sent my wee ones out to get there own protein for the day. The small boy is doing quite well. I think he has the little black one in his sights. (I love you Melissa…heehee)

I do take very good care of my health though, I take ass loads of vitamins every morning. This is just half of them.

I take pain in a different way than many do. After learning how to give birth at home, I had a new respect for my body so instead of continuing to pop out MORE kids even though it is totally kick ass, I chose to just put new holes in my body and spend hours letting someone puncture me with color soaked needles.

This is my head before May 31stish …………..Oh and I’m stretched to 7/16ths and my goal is 1.5inch.

Here is my loverly ear after getting poked on the 31stish. Its called the conch and yes I’m so childish that I want to say cooch. Its just who I am, man. I am too damn deep to be serious all the fucking time. Farts make me laugh too.

I am more and more complete the more and more of these I get. As my soul soars and my love grows so shall my beautiful works of art. The goal is to be covered neck to feet by the time I’m 50. Oh and I like my new brown bra.

I feed my little blue duck better than my children. If that were true, I would not be blogging about how much ass wiping I do all day.

I dig my garden. haahaa get it? Oh I’m such a dork sometimes. I also like to recycle as you can see with my old tires, painted perty to grow my veggies for this season. They are doing really well, the only issue I face is the CAT SHIT (mentioned in a previous blog) Hence all the wooden skewers you see. That little turd is still pooing in there.

This is how I look on most days. No make up no frills unless you consider the holes and tattoos frills then and only then could you call me a frilly girl. gag. Darn it I don’t think I got a single good shot of my septum piercing. Oh well this leaves me open to blog about my nose right?

I take my writing seriously. So while reading instructional blogging sites I may seriously partake in a corona. I came up with some pretty good shit that night.

I have a walking stick for a pet. I’m not sure why this is interesting or noteworthy other than the fact that I doubt YOU have one. If I’m wrong then lets have walking stick play dates and do an arranged marriage quick cause I want a bunch of baby walking sticks around this place.

People tell me I have really pretty eyes. I believe them.

Here is our mama dog done being the mama and loving living with us. We have had her for about 8 months and its one of the most enriching experiences of my life owning, training and loving a dog. Yeah I know I’m mooshy too. Wow this chick is multifaceted.

You will rarely if ever see any pics of my husband because he doesn’t care to have his face on the internet. I try to respect him but sometimes he is just too cute so I do it anyway.