Royaume de France: As the Dream Falls Away

Friday, September 4, 2020

Queen of France

As the Dream Falls Away

windsor castle
Windsor Castle, from my ancestors.
Under the guise of being personal,
I was just a woman who wanted to sell her artwork online.
The selected website, had all the trappings, ready for some type of income earning potential specifically for me. So, I signed up to Amazon.com about 5 years ago.
I re-organized by profit potential to sell prints of my artwork. All of which I deemed as normal procedure in order to garner an online wage. I ordered glass and acrylic to create frames around each print, even expensive black artist tape to bind them all together.
Then, by hand I put wire and loops for them to hang on the walls.
They've been ready for sale and online for over 4 years, & with not one bite.
I call this an attempted murder against me. An online misappropriation of selectivity that has brought me into further poverty and neglected me as an individual by not allowing me to sell my art fairly on the open market.
Today, I sent a wierd plea-type-of-note into their feedback machine:
"Why do you limit Artists?
Why do you only qualify RICH people who can afford a REGISTERED TRADEMARK in order to create a Brand Name just to sell a print.
For 4 years I've had 50 prints listed on Amazon, and not 1 of them has sold. No Brand Name in the search for them. Your company is too financially hurtful to me. Who are you people?
Are you machines that only allow Chinese products and RICH people with Registered Trademarks to sell?
Why do you want so may impoverished homeless people?"
I still hold my held high, but if my funds* run out, I'm ready for my death. I am not a child here with dreams into forever. Or living by some religious; "Help me, Help me, code". Their religious "GOD" response is even a further push towards getting out of this existence. Their push is so fake and bitterly false to me, that with each lie they spew I hate them even more.
I'm not able to commit to being homeless. Therefore, I will be one of those, that choses a death with dignity rather than a life left-over as a street victim, as a woman raped constantly and wrapped in her own filth. That's not a life to be lived for me.
Nor is it a life for me, to compensate my ideals and nod my head with the religious followers on their sainted path of, "We're all saved, loved and adored".
There just are limits, of the hurts and agonies one can feel, while still wanting to continue. Earning a living from my art prints was a step away from that direction, towards a decent survival. Where "I" like any other, do also require some type of "Pavlov's Cookie" in reward, especially, after all the work entailed.
This Amazon monopoly has just pushed me too far, where the essence of being a human that's allowed to earn an online living has been denied to me for too long. No need to yell, "Ebay" at me either, that's another needle in a haystack website for any art print.
Meanwhile, Amazon is of course pushing the "Masters", Van Gogh, etc., instead of those artists that are currently alive and living.
What's even non-funnier; are all my "Rich aquaintances" who "Love God", like a constant baptist church revival on crack.
Then, there's the other's; the "Too Rich" aquaintances, who live so snottily that even if I killed myself; they would only blink an eye for a moment and then go about their day as normal. I have the most "non-understanding of who I am"; as a set of aquaintances in the world perhaps.
They are possibly too mentally disturbed by their own wealth, or religious pastimes; in order to be able to communicate with them normally.
Then... I even released 50 online cd singles & mixed sets, with "Distrokid", with my cheap microphone; at over 50 yrs old, all arias. Yet, that online effort keeps hitting me in the face also. I especially loved the statement given that the arias held under that title or music composition have already been listed by another singer. Where only 1 singer is allowed to sing an Opera aria, and sell it online.
Before all the singing releases; I wrote over 7 books all on sale via amazon, with varied topics. Still no income. Truly unbelievable the disdain over my life, that has been thrown at me from amazon.
There's a point where, the online world has an ego so bound to a certain few; those who can afford Registered Trademarks and those who can afford to buy their artwork pre-framed; with the hope of a chance they might sell the printed canvases they've purchased; as they stack up in their "successful" garages.
Amazon has been evil to me, running its preferences to only Rich spoiled artists who can pay those Trademark fees.
It's not only Amazon either, every site I've attempted to make a living from has failed. society6; redbubble; zazzle; kindle books, shutterstock; 500px; and so forth. There's only so much 1 human being can do in the attempt to succeed. Thus far, it has only been a constant fail.
If you were in a constant online earnings fail for 5 years, perhaps you too would understand my current state of logic.
Meanwhile, major conglomerates, hire for minimum wage or even less, using their clout of price wars to become featured.
The amazon.com site supports them, the major corporations only. The little person cannot survive under their tactics of unfair business practices and greed. It's sheer Greed to ask for $40.00 a month from a single individual, and they know it. That $40 pays for more advertising, pays for buy boxes and pays for higher rankings for all their listings. $40 a month is $480.00 per year. A big company doesn't care, but the people like me who can only make a sell now and then, obviously cannot compete with them.
What a joke, where my eyes have been exposed to this constant drudgery of a computer and its databases, wasting the last years of my life, as a computer slave.
It's too vicious a life, against the individual.
*Financial Info: I am currently under $200.00 in my bank account. with $1200.00 set aside for my father's funeral costs.
I fully expect that each dollar I officially transposed away to the mortgage company for the loan held under my father's dear name; will be usurped from me. Regardless that I'm actually the known property owner and property tax payer with the state. Usurped from me, because I will not be able to pay the mortgage; due to amazon.com, and the other online sites of fail.
So, all my years of sequestered keeping of my father; as his caregiver, would be just that, with no chance of a financial gain. No matter the forfeits I have taken during those years by being entirely frugal. That robbery would be from the mortgage company; demanding me upon his death; to have a career worthy enough to re-qualify the loan. Otherly, that fast-sell sits on their wanting lips, within 1-2 months of my father's passing.
Meanwhile, my only tactic left... is modifying his diet so that he lives longer. So, maybe by then, the mortgage will finally be paid off, and the mortgage company will not win.
Today, my latest question arises from myself to my father, "Is it time yet, to put you to bed in the living-room? Just like Charlie and the Chocolate Factory... So, during the upcoming days and possible years of your life remaining; you're not alone in your bedroom and just idly talking to yourself?"
Financially though, my luxury of time supposedly exists; yet it's an uncertain time, an undependable time, a time that sometimes frights me... that it may be over, as my father could very simply be another person known as "dead".
As a woman, I've resigned myself away from the relegated normal of enchantment with a male counterpart. While, trying not to see myself with: "visually unappealing", being their concocted reason of my exhausting celibacy. Luckily, existentialism does exist, and my yogi thoughts can go higher, without a spouse ever needing to be present.
Then, melancholically, I pester my Artist self again; "Should I draw", when there's no Pavlov's Reward? I hesitate another day, and the paper is still blank. "Why try?" begs the question. "Just to fill the alcoves of my closets?", For what reason, "Why, would I want to even give 1 ounce of myself towards the financial pockets of others after my life, when my financial pockets in the during have been so provingly denied. "