Sunday, October 13, 2013

Queen of France

Store Fattened: begins my lawsuit request series

After not shopping for months and months,
and resorting to only foraging and living off in-house
and natures outdoor supplies,
I was given a zike-out to town, with a shopping experience, via superstores of city-time.

Gone for the moment, was the self-survival drama,
and those thought upsets... spent at the wealthy self-sufficient
with myriads of outback Tennessean products, from stills to wine corkers.

It is an all of a sudden food drop experience,
to all at once replenish the goods emptied, entering into lethargies kitchen once again.

Reminds into the gone events of those items such as raisins,
that I had disheartened into never having again.
And reluctant knowing, that the small tree-dried cherries I had collected months earlier,
are raisins in hiding.

After acorns are newly attempting to turn into butter and pears have become biscuits,
I get to shop else? at the corporations injunctions of space warehouses with their always
casually-there availability. "If you or someone with you has money and transportation."

Before the shopping of grossetic refills,
the only true food item... I wandered into not ever having, with great fears, was Olive Oil.
Olive oil, or nut oil is a have-to with any vegetarian-style diet, even with nuts available,
especially if one doesn't indulge in an occasional fish or gathering of slugs and snails.

I forgot the luxury of nut oils for salads,
and mind thought into instead, to create a website...
that will gift send me 5 liters of olive oil in cans,
via online donations.

Also the vendetta felt luxury of coffees bitter,
demising into almost empty,
tends into the wary know that yes,
roasted wheat is supposed to be a hot drink also.

Catkins and tree seeds, start entering as a flour source,
baked in flat chewy rounds with fruit. and the wheat becomes provisional,
shared with the birds that I tend to.

As I have discovered recently,
that I can almost forage and live without store purchased products,
and be healthy, the only the troubling circumstance is winter,
which dis-rescues the easy edibles from being available.
So food storage and garden replacements,
become pertinent as ones only important task in life.

Hanging stinging nettles and squash vines,
to turn into flours and/or powders to add into drinks, at a later date...
has too happen, as the bodies needed green source of vitamins.

At least until the clovers, parsleys and renettling returns.

Its been kinda years like this on and off, so I was mildly prepared,
however, its still a freak out, on long term alone time.

Everything wanders in,
prison sentence?
housebound makers?
what the hell is going on?

Especially when the garden was too small and didn't grow enough;
long term helpers such as pumpkins and food containers are scarce.


I don't need the man race to deficit me into 10000 yrs bc,
time lining me away from artisan,
refeeding me into only the worries of food supply.
while they live in their modern exista,
leaving me un-equipped for self-survival.

Oh yeah, can someone piece my *sculpted dancers together
and have them foundried, for resell.
Perhaps that can pay for something in my direction.
*Positive hope financially returns,
as that was an accomplishment
 in societies wake at one time.

And yes, luckily, most of the time,
I exist with electricity available and turned on,
Equipped with a small freezer, stove with an oven and a few whirring appliances to mingle the makes of recipe together. though the resent builds anyway, ......... and less I use them., only the wood stove/oven only and a few lights, radio and computer recharges.

The long term needed tomatoes of garden are resenting their capture also,
and flaunting themselves into ferments of bubbly tomato champagne,
which is not what I needed as a task to redo.
Sadly, oven-drying tends to burn them, with or without oil.

sea salt, sea salt, sea salt,
speaks again as a remember me as a brine idea.

Oh yeah, I am normally out there,
with transportation and shopping infrequent and being provided,
perhaps 15 years lived in this manner, with great distances to those stores also.
with a few intermittant times spent back in the citified forest
of income non-understanders of my way of life.

Yet, I never really knew this abandonment version, until now.
The when-to of return. ,
alongside no transportation or funds.

Moving to town as a buffet keeper,
is not possible in my circumstances ever,
no matter how pretty my face is too look at.
So destitute your reasoning
in that shows attempt as it will never happen.

As I am accustomed only to know living in the outer realms,
It would be a gifting of a paranoiac state to me, to re-enter into city-life,
therefore an abusive incall on the person(s)
wanting that action of near to or city-liiving for me.

One year I only went shopping a few times, another year, only once,
and stayed at home the rest of the days, with shopping purchases brought to me.
So it is not possible for me to re-mingle in their tribe of near-to-town.

Since I live with less than 10 trips to the store per year,
the store itself has become only a provisional substance gathering zone,
it is not a social substance, nor a be-like-the-others experience.
It is a provisional pay into gathering place for supplies.

Since I have essentially been trained this way, since 1996, 
alaska, new mexico, ireland, france, corsica, and france again.

I have a tremendous seclusionry lifestyle,
not available to persons who just started out living in the country for a while.
As they tend to become shoppaholics,
to resupply the look of the cities stores in their houses.

In my situation moving to a citified lifestyle,
would be an inhumane action to my person, due to the time lived as,
an option open to strange persons minds I don't even know,
a option that will fail.

As I am not a capturable animal as a horse or cow that can be fenced in
I wonder the persons who diatribe in constance to change my lifestyle.

I will only walk back to the land and live again as I have before,
where country try-out newbies will happily re-cling to the city circumstances
and superstores that refeed them.

The money out, city or country, is no variant different, so why the intrusives.

Where I am predicted into extensionalism buried-in again.
wondering is else out there, as I also.

Was the error here, the extensionism into foraging to survive.
As now I have experienced it, I am never to trust the others.

If one is directed to cram in with the others, after years spent other,
well, I understand the walk away into going nomadic,
and was there a reason for that as a win,
on someones bank account only?

As that would be a greedy owner, ...
who lives to enslave that person, ... is it a parental?...
get closer to that dedicated brick and mortar banking institution?

In my case,
with all the properties out there, from lakes to rivers to fields that require caretakers,
even many government properties, in seclusionist states, why this new push into town?

To earn a living? I earn it here online in giving this book out today.
I do not need to re-enter that tune, of gives,
arts, writing, perpetual motion(s), and new a beta gov., etc.


Is going to town, and living near to town,
merely the pregnancy want of a man male,
or a parentals want for him,
to find and look at another to impregnate?

Inheritance rules on overkill?

My findant male isn't a shopper,
nor wanting or needing impregnation(s).

Back to seclusionry situations;
For many, seclusion can bring in abuse and abandonment lawyerly proceedings,
as a foul plethora of hatreds built-in against the person, creates an abusive suffrage state.

I desist from there, as I am trained into seclusion, and yes I enjoy
the pleasure-pain thought strains of solitary deconfinement.

Back to the reshop:
In years of yelp-out, "where is the wheat grinder?" I still have no wheat grinder.
So, the sad fate of flour being gone, became another ruinous accept.
and belittling, as I require the grinder, to recipe items.

I can't point at him as a disprovider though,
as I have electricity, a usable kitchen, a house,
a self-procured vegetable garden,
occasional food supplies, and internet access.

Oddly, even a mercedes or bmw here, can be of the empty tank,
therefore have the look of a player in the money game... normal.

I still finger point at the corporate bakeries
who seem to have blocked the grinding mill invention,
especially here in france, as to make your own bread with fresher flour,
or recipe without the taints of yeast, would distort them into a customer less.

Sadly sprouted hard wheat calls as a health state known,
and the equipment into flour, again a fault want of my consumer.
The health fault known of congestive flour slickering intestional walls.
Cracked wheats and corns allocate into digestion, whereas the full kernals are not always.
And pitious little seeds such as flax, need to be soaked, and/or spouted.

The last reshop event was with an in-law family person also!
Now that was too much,
as If, I am a harnessed prisoner with chains to my ankles that cut too deep,
paining my insides as a bloodletting of falsehoods
who know naught but their claims of what works for them,
as the only mantric ruleant to others.

How dare... creeps in.

Store purchased later,
I practically prostituted my belief system, for some more olive oil:
now I am a have-to,  egoed into website work,
a style sheet to relearn its news of how-to again,
and feel cheated into that task of work, another away from art.

I am a disperished soul that lives amongst those who purchase
art only from art school professors.

I am practically stomach ached with the gross eclections from the store shopping,
new items, agave honey, sour cream and onion corn chips (already devoured),
imports from mexico.
Ships cargoing food, based on my in-store decision. Half-way around the world,
risking leaks and pollutions simply for my tastebuds to entertain a new product.

I have now earned a fresh massive guilt on the ship haulages.
and have to commit in-full to buying foods that are shorter distances or regional.
Not from cargo ships with designer food specialties, 
bringing in coffee haul guilt and the sad endurance of chocolate want.

In a way those two were acceptable to receive, as the mexicans need work,
but this is too much, south america and mexico in my kitchen.

Now I have to devine another work for the mexicans,
to stop "lets all export items to europe... habit."
"Non quero la productos de la Mexique, et Sud Amerique."
================="Only coffee and chocolate, a exportado."

The rush:
With "in a hurry to shop",
it also becomes an impossible to label read the imports or not.
If the stores place the imports on the right side of the shelves,
or one area of the store, that would help the rush-time shoppers immensely.

A nut press!* Is that my girly freedom now.
After finding and peeling acorns, after the leeching and worms are removed,
1/3 could be an oil source.

I am disappointed by my fret in hardship worry before the in-store visitation.
Relaxed into overeating, crunching and munching quicker, after the store visit.
As if I would never need to think of food storage or even going to the stores again.
A total ditz brain on receipt of fancy packaged products.

but yeah, the food starts to get eaten and the remind returns,
of that nut press, *with a large handcrank, and a flour grinding mill,
perfected in-sync with garden rows of wheat, popcorn and oats.

yet, because the grain rows are not happening, as they are intensively ardous,
the supply shopping world is still needed, especially for my animals.

Expensed away from frugal on the store visit also,
as it was hurried, some things weren't priced correctly.
Like 8 euros for a butternut squash, as I didn't label price it,
a tiny 5 euros-over error occurred, being listed as a huge tomato cerise.

Also with rush shopping, on long duration reshops,
things are missed such as...citrus or fish, (if one eats fish).
and the ebb need of selecting,
one more sack of crushed corn or wheat, becomes a joust into less,
with the unknowing why? quiets me further into self.

Forget shopping for clothes, there is no time,
and perhaps not enough money either,
and the household items such as blankets or towels...
starve away from having another winter into.

Still prizing my 2 hens for their gives,
I idly despair the chance, that they may stop laying eggs at any time,
as they refused to brood during the summer, possibly due to cat fears.

I guess in a naming; self-survival
I call it self-survival in the surrounds of modernization, requiring foraging.
As the self-sufficient farm lifestyle brings with it, equipment,
and not the need to forage also.

Thusly, I retire to regarden again,
just to avoid that need of going to town, to occur so* quickly again.
Only when I want to go to town, not when I need to go to town.
*(thusly, I make wooden needles for sewing.)

Oh yeah well female, does seem as a give up now. also.
as I forgot to grab at the large stores version of mascara,
and the bio shop lock-ups were an impossible stopover to beckon for.

House juried in,
I don't want to see the over-supplies, so, I have attempted to hide them,
as to not disturb the chaos of my day-to-day thoughts.

Full length version:
Perchance this existence does allocate one of the spouses and/or shoppers,
to accelerate one into thinking of the possibles of a theft at home;
as the time away, is too long to avoid the wonder.

I believe many are already knowing this type of capture,
when one has to stay at home,
to appease the other,
due to their thought out warning list,
of ...the possible deceptives against,
the household zone, while journeyed away.

To art-stay at home, it works to stop those possibles,
yet the other may not get the tune, 
as the remains of that compendium of theftic fears,
has not been deleted.

So, the guard dog spouse, doesnt really allay
the person away from having the worries,
only reduces the repetitions of those experiences in having.


Perhaps live in an rv?
and park in the stores parking lot,
thats a joke, .

Oddly is its midst of less store supplies and more foraged supplies,
I did find myself ferverantly decisory into ownership of those gathered items,
due to the work involved and their long term necessity,
pausating into a plausible survival need.
Ground fallen bruised fruit, acorns, blackberries,
horse chestnuts, nettles, my vegetable garden items,
and the makes of their togethers,

I am not sharing forages of food, here,
but I would surrender them, during a non-available economic time.

whereas I feel the store bought products,
are held at a higher stake and cruelancy to the thief or take-wanter.

perhaps its all that pectin and sugar enhancement,
with exacting labels, pure unbroken seals, the perfect heist.

Their not the wanters of handtouched creations,
without the ingredients known of whats inside,
containing the possibles of ferments and bacterias blooming.

Piteous olds have gone away, such as baking to giveaway pies,
in luxurious 1950's phenomenal hairstyle duplexed high,
in the latests styles abandon.

If done so now, it is the store-drive-to shopping rich with
the occasioned retired time to friendship bake,
a recipe invented by others only... via a book or a tv show.

Friending-in, only with the financial rich near to or next door?
to pie fatten back into 50's retime again, then onto
the 60's to choose sides of... are you into flower power?

"Go away, says the self survivor, its 2013, I am foraging here,

keep up your drive-bys,
and aquitant wants to befriend,
in the countrysides latency of "what to do?".

keep up your uncountables in travels and journeys,
be as you are, the drive around specialty rich,
no matter the wheels there on,
bringing goods and foods to house-in,
founded with all those products imported, indecent and unfair."


I cannot find a balance on the pretensive conditioning,
from the major shopping stores there,
the necessity is a garden space, but then nothing else
seems to be afforded in time or allowances of personal objectives,
therefore the meanderant shopping hauls provide air time
to think and create other things,
such as write, sing, art etc.