My puppy saved me and my life, from a dark future in which may have not been a future. Being deaf, was a curse in Tulsa, from their point of view, and that I was to be punished for it. The memories of deaf discrimination in my mind sparked so many raging emotions that I had, to love my puppy, to escape the darkness of anger, a rage was so great, against those who discriminated against me for being deaf, that it would have scared them, turning their skin white as a ghost. It was the dark side of anger that was consuming me, for deaf discrimination was vast and unrelentless. I had to love to escape, and when Molly entered my life, I found and discovered love. I could feel joy and happiness when I loved my puppy.
Molly was the cutest little darling puppy ever, gifted to my mother by my neice, Piper, it was birthed by Pipers other Grandmother's Bleinhiem Cavaliers. She was the cutest of the litter, shining with an exuberance and a sweet, gentle spirit, she had a certain something special that separated her from the others. My parents picked her out, and my father named her Molly, after Molly Ringwald of the 80's films. I just got back from raving at Movement Detroit Electronic Music Festival in 2008, and stayed at my Aunt Marian's in Birmingham, Michigan, an upper-class neighborhood that has that Michigan charm. Her children, my cousins, Sam and Jessie, said, We have good news for you. I was like, what good news? And they told me that my parents got a dog. I couldn't believe it. I never thought that my parents would get a dog again. I knew who Molly was, but it was still a shock and a surprise to see her as I walked in the door from the airport. She was still a child, and her cuteness was contagious, filling the room.
I felt joy and radiance from within as I bent to greet Molly. I felt love spurged on the inside, something I hadn't felt in a long time. Living in Tulsa, a town with a dark and shadowy past of the Tulsa Race Riot of 1921, it was difficult for a deaf person to feel accepted, and embark on career and ambitious goals without getting a lot of unfair discrimination. This book is not about being deaf or deaf discrmination, but about how my love for Molly has taken me out of darkness. That I had to escape the darkness through love. It's like running out of a dungeon filled with inccessant monsters that the only way out is escape. I had too many memories of rejection, too many memories of deaf discrimination that I was filled with anger, and that rage turned to hate. I hated my enemies and I wanted to kill my enemies. If a girl rejected me because I was deaf, and she had sex with a hearing guy (and made sure I knew that just to spite me) I wanted to kill that hearing man. I fantasized about killing hearing men so many times that I fantasized about being Mafia and being a Godfather and killing the hearing men who had sex when I didn't get any. I had raging emotions boiling inside of me that my body couldn't handle it. I screamed with rage thousands of times and cursed my enemies and I was hot with anger. I uttered the most disgusting and foul insults I could at the hearing white trash boys that I hated so much. The screams of bitterness, the foul curses, the murderous ideations I had, the anger ate at me inside. I was burnt out to a crisp. I was torn apart by my emotions and they were so great that it hurt my body, and it hurt my spirt and my personality. I was a sweet little deaf boy when I grew up, but my adult years I was a different person. I was hurt and rejected and that hurt turned to hate and wrath beyond. I had to escape this wrath, I had to escape these demons. It was so mind-boggling that I was judged for being deaf. I couldn't understand it. I grew up reading so many books, as there was no caption on television, I couldn't watch T.V. in my youth. I read J.R.R. Tolkien at the age of 6, far beyond the reading comprehension of my hearing peers at that age. I could read a Dragonlance novel in a hour in my teens. I read tons of classics, like Tolstoy, Hemingway, Faulkner, Dostoevsky, and prided myself on my reading. I read all of Hemingway, all of Sherlock Holmes twice, all the entire Ring Trilogy 6 times in a row, all of Kurt Vonnegut, The Beatniks, etc. I had read more than 500 books by the time I graduated high school, and about 900 books now as I write this. I prided myself on an intellectual, and when I looked at a person, I could tell if they were readers or not. I could sense their intellectualism and lack thereof. It irked me when non-intellectuals judged me for being deaf and I couldn't understand their point of view or sympathized with it. There was no respect for discrimination. However, there is also no kudos for my anger and response to deaf discrimination, however overwhelming it was. I couldn't possibly remember every instance of deaf discrmination, but it was someting beyond a mere choice of response I had to make. I had an history of being mis-prescribed psychiatric pills from 1993-2000 at the age of 17-25, and basically, the side-effect of Prozac, if you are not meant to take it, it can cause anger side-effects. So it was also, a matter of side-effects. Even if I was off the pills, the side-effects lingered one way or another. I had to somehow heal my body and the way it acted as a result. My mind, was a raging machine, constantly thinking up deaf-discrimination conspiracy theories of invisible enemies doing things to me for being deaf, and then I would get angry over nothing, but my over-imagination. A memory of deaf discrimination would spark my mind, and the raging emotions would return, and then I would be cursing and cussing and being angry, and destructive. This was not a way to live life, and it was not fun. I was not having fun. I couldn't get through the day without thinking about deaf discrimination and being angry about it and then saying very nasty and disturbing things about the people who do it. It was not a fun way to live and I had somehow to get out of that lifestyle. I can't live that way, hating other people, even if they do judge me for being deaf. I had to somehow reframe my mind. But it is very difficult, when my anger is being fed constantly by racist people of Tulsa, a town that has a history like the Tulsa Race Riot of 1921. I wasn't just a victim of psychiatric abuse, but also dojo-abuse, for I ran 10 miles from the dojo everyday for 6 years, totalling an approximation of 20,000 miles ran, and didn't get all my fights on videotape. That was an ordeal and trial and test that was very difficult for me to cope with and led to some very serious anger problems, especially when I have at least a hundred Tulsa MMA fighters on the Oklahoma Underground Fight Forums all insulting my deafness and feeding my anger; and other circumstances: I was poisoned several times and didn't get proper medical treatment, and have Overactive Bladder that is untreatable as a result, and is always a test everyday. I have to wake up 5-10 times a night to pee, and at peak nights were 100 times a night. I could no longer drink booze or eat pizza/doughnuts. My life changed forever. I didn't have a girlfriend. I don't have sex. I rarely dated. It takes more than a decade for me to get laid. I was so angry and bitter about it. How was a Christian man supposed to have sex when not married? Where was the right girl to be? How as I supposed to go about having sex, when I am rejected for being deaf, and then have not met the right girl to marry to have sex? How is life fun without sex? How? How is it possible? Thus I had to escape the darkness of anger that deaf discrimination was taking me, it was making me sick. Finally after so many years more than a decaded past my theory, I was correct. The psychiatric medicines, especially anti-depressants, can cause a lack of interest of love towards one's partner. It's sexual side-effects was preventing me from dating, being in a relationship, having sex, and marriage. Furthermore I would not be surprised that it's side-effects is causing others to discriminate against me for being deaf, as well as causing my anger problems, the latter being scientifically verified.
Seeing Molly, in the house, upon returning from Movement Detroit Electronic Music Festival, as I was expecting her, she was still a surprise. She was a beautiful treasure, a living miracle. Yes, a miracle. While my parents were meseremized looking at the television screen and hypnotized by it, I would not be looking at the television altar, but at Molly. I would be holding her and kissing her. She is a jewel, a living thing that is far a more miraculous thing than television to me. Television, with all it's entertainment and information, is still somewhat of a lie, because it is not truly alive, it doesn't breath, it doesn't have a heart, but Molly does. She is a living jewel, a gem, and radiated cuteness. When she came into the living room, with a bone in her mouth, she looked so cute, that I went apeshit, pointed at her and exclaimed how cute she is, and began to play with her and cuddle her. Molly is the cutest princess in the whole world.
"You are the most beautiful girl in the whole universe" I would tell Molly, as I cuddled her. I needed the cuddle highs to help with my brain chemistry and feel-good chemistry. So I would hold Molly's face next to my own, as a hug, as a cuddle, to get that hug-high that is necessary to feel serotonin and other brain chemistry associated with well-being. I found it very strange that my parents didn't cuddle Molly, or didn't feel the need to do it, as I did it quite a lot, to excess, as a cuddle-addiction, so that I could cope with my anger problems. I would tell Molly, "I love you, Molly" at least a hundred times of day, to get away from the curses I would utter towards my enemies as they were imagined in my mind. I would kiss Molly a hundred times a day. I am very proud of her, I looked at her proudly as a heraldry-freak looked at a rare coat of arms, for Cavaliers were royal pets owned by Kings and royal families thorougout medieval times, bred for the nobility, and they had a look of nobility about them. It was a legend that King Charles would ignore his court, and play with his cavalier puppies. Many great masterpieces have made eternally the Spaniel Cavalier in oil. They are irrestibly cute, for Molly melted my hardened heart, and shown me love in this universe. Molly is the key to love that is in this universe to me. For as I loved Molly, I was crawling out of the abyss, the chasm of darkness that my wrath towards deaf discrimination has placed me in. "I love you, Molly. I Love you, Molly" has been a chant and mantra of love to get me out of the darkness. As we are created by a God that is love, we are designed and built to love, wired to love, and not for hate. Our bodies and souls are not built to hate, and cannot handle the destruction that comes with hate and anger.
Molly is just unbeleivably cute when she does that classic Cavalier cute smile. Its an amazing smile that is so charming, and endearing, that can make any heart melt. I love loving Molly, because it is healing and thearaputic to me, and is rather, an eternal truth instead of a lie that people like to hide behind. People don't love, because the lie of which they want to hide inside, a false comfort zone. I would go apeshit over the cute smile, and cuddle her. "You cute widdle darling, most precious puppy, most precious jewel". "You darling ewok, you darling little tribble. Whose the cutest little tribble in the universe? You are thats who you are, the most cutest little tribble in the universe". "Precious Darling, you are the most beautiful girl in the whole wide world, yes you are". "My little jewel made of fur". "My wuddle bunny, my cuddle bunny". "I wuv you precious". "My princess of cute, she wears the crown of cute". "My kawaii cutie". "My widdle pwecious, most adorable thing in the universe". I would then chant, "I love you" many times, and kiss her many times. All this was necessary to bring some joy and love into my world. I would sing love songs to Molly, the first thing in the morning when I see her, and then cuddle her. While most people don't always like to walk their dogs and think of it as a chore, I love walking Molly, and taking good care of her. When I noticed Molly's fur for the first time, as it grew long, I was amazed by how beautiful her coat was, as it grew in different directions, and I would gaze at the patterns her brownish red and cream white colors of the Blenhiem, how pretty it made her. "You are the prettiest princess in the whole wide world". The Cavalier coat is rather splendid, like a King or Queen wearing a royal cloak. It's splendour is true, for the Cavalier is a prize-winning breed of many dog shows, internationally. The Cavalier Charm, is rather whimsical, from the sweet, alluring cavalier smile that melts hearts, to the odd behavior antics that Cavaliers are well known for, the indecisveness of going inside or outside, the crossing of sides of the street many times while walking, as if one is window shopping, the wag of the tail, the whimpering howls when she begs for scraps of food. She would hold her head in pride as I wash her in the bath, knowing she is beautiful, yes, she is a very beautiful dog, made to be that way. It is so cute to wash her paws, giving the royal princess a bath. As my mind and heart is broken by incessant deaf discrimination, I have to repetitvely love Molly as much as possible to bring postitivity in my life bring a light into the shadows that darken me. As I love Molly, I can change the weather, thus getting out of a dark cloud into some sunshine, metaphorically. Thus I can walk out of a storm.
When I walk across the living room to get a water or a snack, Molly is on the couch with my parents watching T.V. She would raise and stand, expecting me to cuddle her. Which I do, and this is essential routine, I kiss and cuddle her as I pass by her, every time. I would kiss her many times and say, "I love you, Molly. I wuv wuv wuv wuv wuv you little darling". Of course, I must give her many good-bye kisses before leaving the house. If I forget, I go back to the house to kiss her. If I forget something, I use that incentitive to kiss her even more. Sometimes, if I forget two or three things, or need to check on the house to make sure it is safe before I leave, I kiss and hug Molly more and more before I leave. When I am cooking or doing something and Molly is watching me with loving eyes, I see Molly and point and go, "Isn't that the most beautiful creature in the Universe? How precious!". When I walk her, I tell Molly that I love her, and I even sing songs to her, despite being in public. Of course, when I wake up, I start to serenade Molly, and sing love songs to her, I have written several love songs, and music videos for her. I would sing, "I superduper love, love, love, love, you, you, you, you, you, you!" to Molly. "I love you with all my being, Molly". "I love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love you forever and forever Molly, my precious darling".
