Living to Tell the Tale

The relationship between a mother and daughter is special. It is also different person-to-person. I have had a special relationship with my mother all my life. After my father left in 1975, I slept in the bed with my mother. When were super young, it was me, her and my little brother. It was always the three of us. Since my middle sister and I are three years apart, it was like she has two-sets of children. The first three and the last two. I have memories that go as far back as four-years old. Kresge's and riding the bus. When I started first-grade and my little brother hadn't started school, yet. He and my mother would go on the bus and take care of business. I would come home and the door would be locked and I would sit on the porch for a few minutes, and the bus would stop and my mother and brother would exit and my life was better, again. Shortly after that, my sisters would come home with my big brother and the house was full, and again I was full.

As time went on things began to change. My big brother spent his days at his best friends house. My sister's as always were besties and I had my little brother. They would come and take him away from me, every now and then. We grew and I stayed in the bed with my mother. I was always different. I never got caught up. I never did drugs or engaged in weird sex practices. Not only did I face scrutiny in school and in the streets, but in my own home. I was ostracized among my older sisters and brothers, beat and made fun of to end. It's true that is part of growing up. I know we all have had to endure torture from their brothers and sisters, but this was different. It has flowed into our adult life and I am facing the fight of my life, with people that I can't even see, but I know my family is against me and it hurts to the depths of my soul. Once she taints my food, commercials run on television and ads on Facebook that warn of heart attacks and strokes. Why they want to get me sick and in the hospital can only mean they want to harm me further.

My mother whose bed I left at 13-years old. She got a big bedroom in one or the many apartments that we lived in and I took my brothers old bunk-bed. The room was so big that I was able to set it up next to her bed and finally sleep on my own. I even put up posters of George Michael and Michael Jackson to make it feel like a true teenager's bedroom. Then I moved into the room vacated by my sister, who had moved out. One night, after beating me for spending $.80 more than she told me to, out of her five-dollar bill. It got out of control and my mother ended up with a busted capillary in her head and the apartment had blood all over the place. Many things happened that year that include my older sister's new boyfriend meeting me at the bus stop two to three times a week. Parking in a parking lot and asking me to have sex with him. I told my mother and my sister and they both told me that I was lying and there was something that I did. Then we were kicked out of our apartment and my sister kicked me out of her house, and I was homeless. She and my mother always have big plans for my life. My mother always calls my sister to fight me when she starts mess with me. My sister now, is morbidly obese and my mother can't call her anymore.

My mother has stopped eating, and didn't eat anything for days sometimes. She got down to 150-pounds. I had to call my sister, because she wanted to make me look bad, so bad, she was emaciated and looked like she was wasting away. I knew she didn't want me to feel sorry for her. She was still going through my stuff and stealing whatever she thought was important to me. She let her hair go completely white and walked with a cane when she went out. A cane that she didn't need, because subconsciously, she would leave it everywhere she went with it. Meijer started keeping it, and my sisters "husband" got her a new one from his job. Her doctor, Dr. Mohammed Kahn is in on it. He claims that her blood pressure is high. She got a toothache and I took her to the dentist, and her blood pressure was almost perfect. My blood pressure was 222/119 the last time I went to see my mental health provider. She tries to make it seem like I'm making her suffer, but it is so hard to live with a person that takes every opportunity to taint your food and make you sick. I can tell you it is very frustrating.

After that, they have both attacked me in so many ways. That includes searching out my boyfriends and telling me which one were gay, dope-addicts of both. When we got kicked out of our apartment due to things they said that I have done. I just refuse to pick-up trash that wasn't my responsibility. My mother and I went to stay with my sister at her condo. She had been tricking with an old man since she was about 16-years old. I guess she thought that it was my time to get involved with some form of prostitution. The man that she was with, her "boyfriend" was married. Not only did he have her, but a wife and my sister was still tricking with the old man. Even after my mother and sister claimed not to believe me, about my sisters "boyfriend", we all hung out. I just thought my sister had forgiven us. I would hang out, he taught us to drive and we would eat. In 2010, I began to realize that my sister had a fixation on me that wasn't sisterly. She pretended to be someone else and send me a message on Facebook that named particular body-parts and facial features, namely my lips.I thought that it was my sister, because that's the kind of thing she did, but she talked about me like a man that had studied me. That's when I stopped thinking it was her. Except, when I told my cousin, God rest her soul, she was like, "Girl, you know that's..." 

That's my sister's husband, now. It's been over 30-years, and I'm a grown woman. My sister that my mother used to call and have come jump on me in her obesity can barely walk.  and can't walk a grocery store and uses one of those scooters to get around. I don't think, today, that she is mad that her man wanted me, but that I didn't want the both of them. I'm not bi-sexual and if I was, I would never have sex with my sister. I notice that my cousins have sex with one another and my niece. I wouldn't think that if I were experimenting with gay sex that I would want to indulge with any of my family members. 

Now, I'm in love with a man that my mother or sister can't get to. He don't walk through the mall, can be found in a local crack house or deal with people of the underworld syndicate of Oakland County. People have tried to keep us a part for the last 20-years and my mother and sister have been an intricate part of that separation. We love each other, and do not let anyone come between us. My mother, who thought that we wouldn't make it. I know a lot of people thought we would make is, because it has been 18-years. The hopes that I would be living with her as nothing and nobody was her greatest wish. So much so that she used to tell me, "Nobody wants you!" She calls my debilitated sister, hoping that she could somehow threaten me into submission. I'm at the point that I want to go live in a shelter.

My mother steals my clothes, my mail and medication. She puts stuff in my food, and making me feel like I am having a heart attack, and sending my blood pressure sky-high. The stuff she puts in my food also gives me hot-flashes and night sweats. The reason that I have decided to write this is for the last three days, my heart has beat so hard at night, I think it would be out of my chest. My skin feels like it is on fire. I was supposed to have diabetes after taking Abilify shots for over a year. At this point, I'm not sure if I had diabetes or if my mother poisoned my food to the extent that my body acted like I had diabetes. Once, I had to be hospitalized for my diabetes, it was 427. Even after getting two doses of "fast-acting" insulin, my blood sugar wouldn't go down. I learned from the Forensic Center that certain medications react differently on the body. Like steroids give my sister high-blood sugar. Other drugs can cause you to have high-blood pressure and run your sugar up, too. Some can even give you nightmares. It had been a year, since I had taken Abilify. My obese sister questioned why I still had diabetes. She used her situation with steroids as an example. "How come you still have diabetes, if you don't take that medication anymore?" 

I found out while in Oakland County Jail, I had the same kind of symptoms. Headaches, constipation and night sweats. I buy stool softeners and laxatives all the time. If you don't have a bowel movement the medicine can continue to poison your blood stream and make the symptoms last longer. After two days, I take one or the other and get all that poison out of me. I thought I was going through menopause. She never stops and I know that she's been doing it for a year. She doesn't care, any chance she gets she spikes my food. I can't believe that someone could be so jealous of their child they try to make them sick. I have done everything in my power to help my mother. I even left my job to pick her up when I worked at Sears. What did I get? A flower pot to my forehead. I'm losing my sight in my right eye, due to that assault. She was protecting my niece and she now is fascinated with her ex-boyfriend and father of her two children. I never looked at her in such a despicable way. He comes to this house and steals my food out the refrigerator. She is in on a scam, DTE workers damage our refrigerators. Once they go bad, they come in and rip the freezer apart. She told me that they fix them up and and sell them in private sells. They may have a spot where they are sold. She also tries to tear up our landlords home to keep her rent cheap. Our landlord has been more than good to us. We've been through so much here. He steady let's us continue to live here. My mother is a paranoid-schizophrenic. She always thinks that I'm out to get her. That the whole world is against her and out to get her. She killed two of my dogs and four kittens that I had adopted, after their mother gave birth to them on our living-room floor. Over the years, none of our family pets lasted more than a year. They would always get some kind of illness and die.

I once found a dead cat in a cooler in our kitchen. The smell lasted for about three months. One day, I just went to the cooler that was in our kitchen. The smell was so strong over there and there was a dead cat. I took it outside and poured the remains in the field. When I was nine my cat was killed by our next-door-neighbor. He said that my mother had killed his cat and he killed mine in retaliation. I thought he was crazy and that he had lost it. Today, I don't think that is so crazy, after all. I have been poisoned. My life is at risk. I tape my pop and juice when I open it up. Right now, right this minute as I type this my heart is out of control. If I hadn't watch my food I was cooking, today, she would have added more drugs to my food to make me sick. I told her yesterday that I will die on my living-room floor. I'm not going to any hospital in Michigan. They put your name in a pool and flag your name with comments and when you get there, the police can be notified. Just like if you have a warrant or something. My cousins were murdered by the healthcare providers in Pontiac, Mclaren, St. Joe and General Hospital all have ties to prostitution. That's why I'd rather die right in my living-room. They'll have to carry me out my house and to any one of those hospitals.

These hospitals have killed my cousins. I don't know what they have on my mother that makes her want to do me harm. She claims it's my middle sister. She never liked her, until now, she's a doctor and sends her money every month. Money that she turns around and gives to her grand-daughter's ex-boyfriend. She has a closet that she uses to hoard what she steals from me. Somethings that I love so much and need so badly, but she will never give up. Especially my camouflage jeggings, they look so good on me. I'm writing this with no shame. Like everything on this blogs, this is my truth, the way I see it. All events are true. Nothing has been contrived or misrepresented. This is my mother shame and my sister's shame and I'm trying to stay alive. When you see me completely winning and leaving my family completely alone, and begin to judge me. I hope you will be directed to this blog. My family has completely turned their back on me. Maybe the "rolled the dice" and hoped that I would stay "stuck on stupid" and choose my family over a man. He can truly say now, that he was the only person that stayed true to me all the time. Even if he did lie on me. Everyone's "feet were held to the fire", and they cave on me. 

My mother has a closet full of my stuff. All my paperwork, clothes and stuff. She uses her age and walks humped over to get sympathy. There are when older than her that stand straight-up and take good care of themselves. My mother wants to be treated like she is needy. Anyone that believes that are setting themselves up for failure. She will wreck your life. She has been trying to ruin mine all my life. Her sister stayed with her mother, until my grandma died. She just got married last years at 65. I don't want that to be my life. My mother wants it to be mine and she wants to continue to try and make me a miserable, spinster. I am not a spinster. I am smart, I am beautiful and someone loves me. Everyone's best interest was always picked over me. They denied me, Jesus was denied. They lied on me, Jesus was lied on me. He was wrongfully and willingly persecuted. He died, however, for my sins and I don't have to die. I will live to change the situation of the people of Oakland County that are suffering from the greed of the the corruption in Oakland County. I pray that I will live to see it through, because they have my entire family working against me. That's why if I do marry. I will stand on the alter all by myself. NO ONE HAS HELD THEIR OWN WITH THESE MEN AND WOMEN WHO SEEK TO MURDER ME! They all stood against me, when they fought against me. Even my own mother! 

An Open Letter to Mrs. Deirdre Waterman: Mayor of the City of Pontiac

Dear Honorable Mayor Waterman:

First I would like to thank you for your tireless comment to the City of Pontiac. You have brought this city from obscurity. We have fought many battles, seen and unseen. Your efforts to move us forward is a testament to your ability to "fight the good fight". You stay the course towards better days. Again, I thank you and your administration. Jane, Dewayne, Alex and Troy are on the forefront, working with you and for you to bring about the change that is so needed in this city. I believe that your efforts will bring this city back from potential ruin. In my opinion, you only have our best interest at heart.

Last week, I wrote a blog about bonds. I stand by everything that I wrote in that blog. I don't think at this point, it would be wise to seek bonds for the reconstruction of the Phoenix Center. I don't think that all the avenues have been researched and implemented. I would ask that you would make an effort, to find a partner in these last two months you have to meet the terms of the deal. I know you are a woman with a strong will. I know that you have your mind focused on the task at hand. Sometimes the job is so much that you can't focus. You cannot see the potential on new thoughts and new ideas. I hope, however, that you don't take my blog as a hit to your plans for the city. Sometimes, people have a difference of opinions. It does not mean that you have to throw away the entire relationship. I'm sure, you can relate, because you lived with one of the greatest litigators in Michigan's history. His war with L. Brooks Patterson was infamous. You manage to not only be his peace, but survive in such a fiery living situation. I can see now how you made it. You are a force, and like my old friend Bob Kaiser used to tell me. "Water finds its own level." If you were on his level you are great in your own right. I respect that immensely. So, please know that.

I writing this letter to ask you for a favor as a constituent, as a constituent and citizen that voted for you in the last election. Please, stop going to those City Council Meetings. I have set flyers out in the city to recall Kermit Williams. Sadly, I have not received any feedback. I think that my flyers were taken down. I would go to the meetings to make a public announcement, but you know what's going on with that. After last weeks blog, I was courted by people to start coming back to the meetings. I am not a dog that you punish and austrucize when you don't like my views, and welcome me when you like my opinions. Besides, you get enough disrespect at those city council meetings that I would never stand in that place and try and under-mind your precepts about your work. I think that maybe there is something that I don't know. I did do the survey and I did pick a venue. I wouldn't attend either, honestly. My current situation makes every city function a trap for me and I make an effort to not attend any of them. On account of my freedom is valuable to me, therefore, I digress.

I want you to stop attending these meetings for that very reason. Those meetings are one of the major places that we as citizens can see you working. President Williams gives this city a cruel and disrespectful view of who you are. He demonizes you, and makes your presence there that of a pariah and not the great leader you are. He will not let you speak, or give an opinion. He claims that you go on too long. Councilperson Patrice Waterman's vernacular is so harsh and damning. Every word that comes out of her mouth is spewed like a venom meant to cut to the core and negate everything you have to say, and everything the Council is trying to accomplish. Heavy sighs and sharp movement that are caught on camera and are intended to spark a atmosphere of  treason. She is always the first to stand-up and walk-out in an act of defiance. Always the one that points out what they are doing wrong, but I wonder if she tries to fix it?

I don't know, because it is the Council's meeting, does that mean that they have a right to act a fool? You go to that circus, every week. You and the Deputy Mayor are so classy. Even when you get angry, your actions are still as "cool as a cucumber". That's how I now that you represent our city well in court, a county or state meeting. I cannot say the same about the other council members. Williams no longer allows his council members to rant for more time than allotted time that they have. Instead of spending her time on you, Councilperson Gloria Miller talks about her district and their problems. That I still thinks that she somehow wants to make your fault. That's why council-people have district to be able to budget for the care of their land. If she has a problem with grass and trees she needs to budget to have the lawn mowed in certain areas and sidewalks. I still do not think that she understand what her job is, however, and I think she should take a civics class. Randy Carter, the cussing councilman has problems with you. So deep that he made a video and referred to you and your Deputy Mayor as a "Skank" and a "Ho". You handled that so well. Thank you...

I never did hear any of the Council denounce his views. No righteous indignation from any of the women up there! A testament to the way they feel about themselves and other women in our community. They can't see that, because their focus is all on YOU! Their vision of what a woman is is lost, because of their resentment of YOU! I don't think that Randy Carter likes women. I don't think that he respects them. Having been in close relationships with abused women in my past. Men don't say, "I respect all women, just not those two women". What is that? He disrespected every woman in this city when he called "Skanks and "HO's". I was offended! His wife, State Representative Brenda Carter, never made a statement about her righteous indignation about her husbands vile and inhumane words. I haven't heard anything publicly. If she did it privately that is not acceptable. The apology should equal the disrespect. He did it in public and he should apologize in public. Swiping past it and walking out is nuts! This is a Trump America! When a man of his office calls names? Rep. Carter has had death in her family. Mrs. Carter lost her son. I would respect her grieving, but I am her friend on Facebook. She has not missed a day of political banter online, since her own son's death. Everyday, she has, in her own words, posted political commentary. Even where it pertains to her family. Besides, while he calling "HO's", he has men sleeping out in the open at a closed and condemned restaurant. Yes, there was a man yesterday, around eight o'clock sleeping on a mattress at the old KFC on Baldwin. He made it clear where his district ends and Councilperson Pietilia begins, and it's his district.

You have a degree in Medicine. Deputy Mayor DiSessa has a Master's in Public Administration. None of the Council member have that kind of education or experience. I know Taylor-Burks has a Master's, but I don't think it is in Public Administration. You should be held at a high esteem. You have so much class, in my opinion, because you never point out the lack of education among the Council. Pontiac is infamous for alienating people that don't fall in line with their ways. Even if you fit into one category, if you don't fall into all, you are dismissed. That's my biggest problem in this city. I want you do stop going to those meetings. PLEASE. The charter says you should be there, but I say, based on "Robert's Rules of Order" that you need to be respected while you are there. If you cannot be, as a constituent, please! I hate the way Williams make you look small. I hate the way he brings you down to a level that is unbecoming of your stature as a Mayor. I hate it! You deserve so much better. I know that is the largest forum that allows you to reach the people. I say you use your platform to create a forum that you control and you can shine in your own light.

This country was built on a set of rules. Those rules are signified in our Constitution. One of the most overlooked decrees in the our Constitution. The right to start over and rewrite the rules, when they fail to work based on a corrupt government. Kermit Williams is practicing anarchy in that City Council Chambers. He breaks all the rules when he want, when he doesn't follow the rules set forth by "Robert's Rules of Order". That is the accepted conduct in all open meeting and is the general rule of order across this country. Everytime he ignores you and don't allow you to speak, he disregards "Robert's Rules", he is breaking the law and therefore those meetings are anarchy in full effect. Since no one seems to want to change it or do anything about it. Please remove yourself and exercise some anarchy of your own. Showing up, is just giving him a platform to make you look bad. We both know that how you treat people is a direct reflection of how you feel about yourself. We also know that sometimes people don't care. When people don't care, we have to and just walk away. You are not dealing with ethical and moral people. You are working with a set of laws, and not a set of ethics. What you do is governed by rules that are not being followed. Seek your recourse that doesn't include judges. I love you with the love of God. Peace... 

Lesley

Don't Believe the Hype!

I was at the laundromat, yesterday. The woman there has worked there for three years. I have been going there for more than three years. I have seen her for three years, too. I left jail the last time, in March of 2015. We have lived in our apartment for 32 years, and have never had a basement or a place for a washer or dryer and we always have to do our laundry at a public launderer. Even before we moved here. My sister who is a doctor now, has three sets of washer and dryers in three different cities. It's just something about being poor all your life that makes it hard not to have anything in excess. She and I both have an underwear fetish that my mother doesn't understand. It's really hard to tell her that it is her fault, and I simply reply, "I like them, they are pretty!" Having a large number of underwear, also prevents me from going to wash more often than I want. I dropped a sock, yesterday when putting my laundry in the dryer and once after taking it out. Upon picking up the second sock, she told me, "You keep losing socks. They don't want to go home with YOU!"

I laughed it off, because I'm supposed to be a violent person. So says the "pimps" at Oakland County Jail (OCJ). As I get older, it becomes a chore. I was had been greeted by my laundromat "friend", "Hey, I haven't seen you in a while!" But she soon turned on me as people came to do their clothes. Everytime I go to do laundry, the police send people to harass me. She does her best to avoid trouble with them, because when I have left, she'll have to deal with them. Mostly they send gays. They still can't wrap their minds around the idea that I am not gay or bi-sexual. I explained that I've been coming in the afternoon and evenings. "I been lazy, lately." It's really none of her business, but she likes to equate my laundry to her ability to determine how clean I am or maybe, I've been back to jail. I have to remember, my cousin says that I have to say, "the way I see it". This is all my interpretations, but I have only been challenged once, and that was about the blog I wrote on Axe. The police dog that was supposed to be murdered by a Black man in St. Claire Shores. In reality, it was more likely that the dog was murdered by the police. By the time the dog is seen running from the scene, in the opposite direction, the man's gun had jammed. 

White people from South-East Michigan was so upset with me about that dog. I told them that a man died and a child, unborn had lost a father. They were collecting money for the dog. I sat right at my laptop and defended that man's life over that dogs. Once the report came out and we saw the dog uninjured running away from the scene, the hype about the dog settles down. Yet, they were all on television before, claiming a dog is a cop and that his life was a value as one of their own. I know police that do not agree with that idea, and feel that a man's life it is worth far more than a dog. Police need to be more careful when a situation like that. As it stands, the dog was killed by police and not the man and I was pretty much safe to say they devalued that man's life, due to his Blackness.

Councilman Don Woodward
Rest in Peace

I've written about so many people in my city, and I've never gotten any feedback like I did about Axe. I recently wrote a blog about the wife of ex-councilperson Kone Bowman. Councilman Woodward is dead. He died peacefully at home. He had resigned on Tuesday at the City Council Meeting. I had missed that portion of the meeting. If I had know, the Bowman blog would have taken a whole other tone. He used to be the Councilman of District 2, back in the day. Now, in my mind, his wife listening in on my session with my healthcare provider makes sense. Maybe Kone Bowman wants his old job back. There has been talk of a replacement for Woodward, but Bowman's name has never come up in these conversations. I posted my cousin's request for me to stop writing about Bowman. I had stopped a year ago, but he has opened a door for a "situation" to occur. He put out a "Public Announcement" like he is still a public figure in his wife's defense. My cousin has ignored my messages, but has not requested that I stop either. They called me from CNS weeks ago, before my appointment was due to come in. I feel, this spying on me was always in the works, because Councilman Woodward's condition was getting worse. Getting the jump on me was vital. My blogs are very popular among the people.

These people, these law enforcement men and women, are nasty people. They harbor murderers and men that have sex with their biological children. They were killing people on Baldwin Street. They show television commercials to let me know that my life is in danger and I'm not afraid. My family loves me, and many of them love me. I attended two school events this year for "friends" and they went after me at one and before me at another. The first event, the woman doesn't even speak to me on Facebook, anymore. When she posted everyday, and we would have discussions. The next event was with a really long time acquaintance that lived down the street in junior high school. His son thought that I was some kind of "Cougar" going after him. The boy just turned 18 years old. I'm his mother's age. But these hungry men and women who steal out of Meijer, told this child that I wanted him. That's the same thing with my friends and family. They tell people that my family hates me and my family follows suit in this game. Everything I write about in these blogs are not happenstance, and are all instigated by law enforcement.

My brothers and sisters have lives. They have jobs and children to attend to. Two of my sisters have grandchildren. They can't live like I live and survive and they stay away. I accidently saw my sister at the grocery store. I hugged her and her expression stayed flat. She was with her mother that she is helping take care of. My Dad's girlfriend. I love both of them. I would never have them go through what I'm going through right now. It would destroy their lives. People trying to run them off the road. Going in their bank account stealing money. Setting their accounts up to be over-drawn. Right now, they won't even allow a credit go through at Citi Group that is pending. Something like that would cause my family members to miss car payments and rent, lights, gas and groceries. I stay away from them and they stay away from me. Their faces stay indifferent and they live in peace. I love them and I would have it no other way. But these hungry law enforcement men and women think that I can't make it. They even bumped my sister's car with a semi-truck on her way back home from Michigan.

Brenda Lawrence US Congress

My family does what they are told. Each of them is able to live their lives freely, and I respect that. The idea that nobody likes me is ridiculous. My family is afraid. Like I should be, but I only have me. I don't have to look out for anyone, but me. My sisters and brothers, their children and grandchildren can all enjoy life. I went to the Labor Day Parade in Detroit last Monday. I was treated like a pariah. It made me question why I was even there. Congress Brenda Lawrence wasn't happy to see me there marching for her. Her group was small, ill-prepared and disorganized, anyway. She was disappointed to know that she would now be targeted by the police. Her ties with Southfield are deep. Southfield, a stones through from Detroit is a cesspool of corruption. I still walked, but decided to remove her t-shirt and walk back alone. The corruption is real. My family's love is real, too. Don't believe the hype. I got friend, I got family and I have people on my side. It brings me back to Ephesian's 6:12-17 and it reads:

"12 For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.13 Wherefore take unto you the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand.14 Stand therefore, having your loins girt about with truth, and having on the breastplate of righteousness;15 And your feet shod with the preparation of the gospel of peace;16 Above all, taking the shield of faith, wherewith ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked.17 And take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God..."

I fight the way I do, because I fight for my life. For everything that is dear in my life and the times to come. I pray for my cousin Rasheed, because saying that he "loves me deeply" goes against the idea that nobody likes me. The women in jail had to do the same thing. One day the truth will be told and no one will be as happy as me and my family. Maybe we can have a party or picnic to celebrate our love for one another, without it turning out to be a "We hate Lesley" event. I can do nothing, but pray for the day!

A Woman's Worth: The Kone Bowman Story

Tracy and Kone Bowman

When I was six years old, I met Tracy Bowman. She wasn't Tracy Bowman at the time, she was Tracy, "Somebody else". She had a cousin named Detrich and they lived on Marshall. I lived in the Duplexes on East Boulevard. I don't know who remembers them, but they had an alley that ran behind them. We were known as the "Alley People". There were huge rats that lived there, too. I have friends on Facebook and in life that like me and my family transitioned there over time. We are all successful people, today! Those kinds of adversities breeds major accomplishments in those that live for success. We met there and were "Alley People", together. My father had left a year before, and my mother was trying to get it together and give us a life. She was failing, miserably, but like Nikki G. says, "I was always happy". Tracy and Detrich were comfortable, and dressed nice and had fancy bows that were put in their hair every morning, and I wanted to be like them and would walk home from school with them everyday. I guess, I wanted to pretend that I was like them, too.

Sometimes, I don't even think they wanted to walk with me. I was not comfortable and did not dress in the latest fashions. My hair was short and I didn't have bows or ribbons or any of those things. Today, I am almost 49 years old. I am not rich, but I have discovered that I am very smart and very good with people. I don't have a huge political career or anything like that. I have a good man in my life that supports me and I support him and we have accomplished a lot over the last 18 years that I'm beginning to think people envy. My life has been hard and lonely. I guess it's about to be over! I have no idea. I am a consumer at Community Network Service. I is supposed to be a premiere mental health program, but they are a bunch of pimps and abusers. I'm not insane by any means. I was forced to go to prison by a bunch of crooked cops. They want to backtrack these days, because although I have not seen my man in over three years, we work. I had never been to jail for more than two days when I was arrested for stalking him. Once for an incident with my brother and again for some more police mess. Girl Scout cookies and things of that sort. Back then, anything crooked in Pontiac was wrapped up in the Pontiac Police.

When I entered prison in December 2004, I had only did the 45-days it took to get me there in my entire life. My mother would always come and bail me out. The "Big Whigs" at the Pontiac Police were standing on my man's neck and he was hopeless, we were hopeless. I loved him and understood and took every lick. With tears and misery, but I took it all, even when I thought I would lose my mind. There has been times that we didn't see one another for years. Our commitment to one another was always there and always strong. I did not know that I could love someone so much in all my life. I love him, however, and am not ashamed of that one bit. In life "a little rain must fall," but I've had tornadoes and hurricanes. God is so good, and he is mighty in the lives of those that trust him. Kone Bowman is a preacher, but he knows nothing about the God I serve. I had to go live with the mentally ill prisoners, because that's where they put people like me who don't "get along" with the other prisoners. I stayed in segregation and in fights with my bunkies. They didn't know what else to do, because most people submit. I did not...

When I got home and Val Gross charged me with stalking him for trying to make a complaint, I went to jail. While in jail, I discovered that the deputies were prostituting the men and women in the jail's clinic. I'm not saying I'm gorgeous, but they pick from your mugshot. I guess I took a nice one. When I refused to sell myself, because I was innocent, they sent me to the State Forensic Center for an evaluation. Wouldn't you know it, I was insane and could adequately assist my attorney in my defense. None of the people I wrote could talk to me, or the news, nobody. I am fine with that, but lately, I've been talking to public officials and mingling in circles that a person from an alley shouldn't be mingled with. Kone is my first-cousins brother. His father was married to my aunt when we were very little children. In fact, when I was six and seven when I knew his wife. She used to pick him and my brother up and they would go play basketball. She died, and when my cousin messaged me on Facebook and asked me for the sake of our family to not write another word about Kone, as a favor to him for his brother. I agreed and have not written a word about his brother since then. Out of love for my family that I can't have anything to do with, because they would be targets of the police. Kone's father did a bid in prison, before passing away at an early age. So, I guess he felt he couldn't talk about that. My aunt, who ran away from him because of abuse, would swear he was crazy! She took my cousins and moved to Tennessee, until he was incarcerated in the early 80's. He abandoned Kone, and it was my aunt that welcomed him into her home and not his own father!

FedEx wanted to build a distribution center behind Stonegate, where Kone and Tracy live. He had come to a City Council Meeting and had some issues with the new construction. Coincidentally, I was in a "Operations Management" class at Walsh. I understood the placement of distribution centers, and the math that is used to determine there whereabouts. They came down to the City Council Meeting like FedEx was targeting Black folk and trying to do something to them on purpose. Making these high-falutin request of them. Kone being the loudest voice that felt they were only building their warehouse here, because we were Black and they thought they could get over on us. He tries to act like he is so intelligent and militant. I found out, today, he is nothing but a crook and a low-class one at that. During his tenure at Pontiac City Council, where he accomplished nothing special, he worked for this pyramid scam. I always wondered how he really made his money, because that company never really paid any real money.

We haven't heard much about FedEx. Kone is probably making them pave his driveway. I never thought that he was good friends with Kermit Williams, but I can imagine after today they are "good" friends. His wife works for CNS. She's a Transport Employee. She picks up and drops-off consumers. They sit at the desk and listen to their consumers sessions with their medical professionals. They think I don't know this. This B***H, Tracy Bowman, that has known of me forever, and felt that she was superior. Now thinks she would get "one up" on me and listen to my session with my healthcare professional. They think nobody knows. People sit in their face, do drugs and run right back and tell what they talk about. Dummy! She and Kone think they can try and act like my man and me. While I sat and played my word game, she talked about her 25-year old. I guess that's more than my 18 years. I don't compare in years, I compare hardship and sacrifice. I compare the love and trust, honesty and loyalty over the years. We may not have a dozen children, but we have one another and sometimes that's enough. Kone wants his woman to be like me. First, he has to be the man that my man is, and then he has to be willing to sacrifice every day for the woman he loves. That does not mean sending her to do the job of a real woman. Because when you come against a real woman, you are bound to lose. 

I'm no longer that little girl with three pair of pants to my name and only one pair of shoes that she has to wear with everything. But Tracy knows that, because she attempted to treat me like I am. I'm at the point in my life that all I want to do is sleep, eat and go to bed. I can't, however, because God has given me too much to do. It does not include coming against people that are too far for me to reach. I hear my name is in rooms that I have never entered. I have sacrificed so much to live. I have been tortured, only to rise from the ashes like a Phoenix, to fight again. Sitting and listening to my life is not even going to get you across the street, Tracy. If you want to know something about me, Tracy, come ask me. My number is all over Facebook. Come and talk to me! Ask your husband to be still! His efforts, as poor as they are, will soon be rewarded. When this started, so many people thought I would never make it. Well, guess what, MF's? I don't deal with men, and I leave him to take car of that part. As a woman I surely know my place. "Trash Bag", you need to keep your wits about you, man. You're way out of your league if you want to come for me. Besides, I didn't even send for your corrupt, sorry a**!

I don't know what failed election this is!

He claims that he is a distant relative to the judge, Leo Bowman, who is a pimping judge in Oakland County. With his wife's sad attempt at getting some kind of information on me, I think they are more than distant relatives. You can read what I have to say about Leo Bowman by clicking his name above. A new window will appear with that blog.

You will never be able to say that I don't care about anything!

Don't believe the hype!