F**k This Year and Everything With It.

My title says it all, fuck this year and everything with it. I’m swearing and normally, I would not in my writing. To be candid I’m over this year and the crap that came packing with it. This year has brought pain, annoyances, and entitled people. I have never seen people act crudely towards others as much as this year. I’m appalled at the behaviour we are all displaying!

Photo by Thiago Matos on Pexels.com

Somehow in the last few years we were moving in a strong direction to treat others with kindness. I noticed a phenomenal uptick in people accepting others. We were becoming more aware of differences and embracing it. Different was refreshing like a sweet tea. I don’t know what happened to that direction because I feel like the world through it down the garberator and shredded the humanity we had.

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It can’t be fully blamed on lockdown and the Coronavirus. We’re using that as an excuse to treat others like utter garbage. I’m over it and it’s time to call out the b.s. of others and the world being trash and acting entitled over people. Our world is divided right now, and we are going backwards. Instead of learning about history and how to be better, we are trying to erase it and make a new narrative. That horrified me: because without history we are doomed to repeat past mistakes. History and the past is disgusting, it is riddled with human error and stories that show the dark side of humanity. Looking at where we are now in history we are really not setting up future children for the brighter side. We are losing culture, we are losing respect, we undoubtedly are losing good qualities and lessons to teach. Whether it be political or racial; or it will be acceptance and understanding, how are actions and choices are right now doesn’t make face to what needs to happen.

I tried to find images that represent this post. Writing this blog post I really feel fractured about my feelings towards people this year.
Photo by Jakayla Toney on Pexels.com

I’m a housekeeper and I know that I’m on the lower totem pole of life. In the past few months I have been dealing with people. I’m appalled at how money and lifestyles is division. I have been yelled at. My life has been threatened by bad customers. I’ve had customers try to scam me for money then threaten my family. Words and actions have been done that are seemingly unfair. I’m not fine with how I see division from wealthy people treat people like me trying to run a business. There is no question to the division. I’ve also been called a filthy Albertan in Ontario. This is our country: we share it with all different cultures and religions. Canada and other countries are a cooking pot of diversity and were fucking it up on trying to get people united to move into the future. I’ve had more bad customers than good. I’m fully seeing the division and misunderstandings that is leading to entitlement.

From riots to poor government and people with cellphones is this what we want our future to show? Losing friendships and community because unless it’s a mass opinion we need shame others for their thoughts. Now I’m not saying you get to hate others for their sexual orientation or the skin that they are born in. I’m also highly against us allowing sexual predators to have more rights than their victims. In this year alone I have noticed a trend: you are not allowed the right to free thinking. Generally speaking, if you think beyond what is being told, others will feel free to be judged, jury, executioner. Humans are not showing we are capable of putting our pitchforks down. Instead, we now do virtual lynch mobs. Has our god dam common sense gone down the drain?

It is not about me, it is not about you, it is about getting better. All of our human shit needs to collected up and let’s be better. Do Better. We are better than this. Get it together people of 2020, or we are going to be in a disturbingly rough ride for the future.

Written by Ali Johnson

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Dear Dad (Thoughts on building a relationship with my dad in adulthood.)

Dear Dad,

I called you last week to vent about picking up my sons medication. You calmly talked me down from the cliff of despair. Being who you are I don’t know how you do it. Talk calmly to me when I feel like a mess of a human being. I’m not always a mess dad, but I feel like one sometimes because I’m learning to be a parent. Even though its water under the bridge I get sad sometimes because you are being more of a dad now than when I needed you the most.

I still get sad on Father’s Day when women share stories of times their fathers spent with them. Not that you didn’t spend the odd time with me. We had Taco Bell and the Monkey Forrest. We had the weird shop of your friends who sold interesting things like taro cards and a homey smell of sandalwood. There were times of listening to music which created my love for Rob Zombie and Smashing Pumpkins. The moments we had spent together were fine because it helped shape my interest. Some Fathers go fishing and camping trips but ours was outings. I think the main part of hearing stories of fathers who would do anything for their daughters is that it’s not our relationship. I don’t know if it ever will be. That’s ok though because in the last couple of years you have gained my respect.

Sometimes I struggle with your fear of my special needs child. You don’t say it out loud however some slight comments make me worried. Yes, your grandson has Autism and Juvenile Arthritis. Is it terrifying? Absolutely, I’m terrified of it too. My terrified is different because I feel like a failure when it comes to helping my child with disabilities. That’s why I try to call you because possibly, you would be able to treat me like a normal person. You see, when you’re a special needs parent your either treated like a superhero or your treated with apologies. What people forget to treat a special needs parent is with empathy and understanding that we love our kids but sometimes it’s a blurred line with doctors, medications, therapist, and school. I value you Dad, for putting words to my feelings, and I know I complain a fair bit when I get frustrated about the whole situation. Please don’t be scared of your grandson and please see the little boy that he is. He’s neurotypical and complex, but he is loving and intelligent. Creative and filled with brilliant ideas far beyond his time. You have only met him twice and you have not met your other grandson; but I think if you give them a chance to know them, you would see the parts of you in there too.

I know I was complicated much like my son, and that was terrifying for you. You were not ready for me when I was born. I get that because I had my oldest at nineteen and you were in your twenties. Here’s the thing even though I wasn’t ready I still try to be there for my kids. You did get better with my sisters and you learned to be a dad to them. I remember somebody once asked me how mad I felt that you learned to be a dad to someone else. Feeling mad is not how I would describe it. I do feel pride for you because you still grew as a person. You keep growing and I see the changes you have made in the last ten years. In ten years I have seen you as a lost person, and now I see you as a strong human being. Hearing you say that you found a new job or did something exciting makes me feel like you are finally where you need to be.

What I really want to say to you and I struggle to say it sometimes, I’m happier now knowing you than when I knew you as a kid. I’m not angry at you anymore because the dad I get now is a good dad who is trying. Giving a second chance wasn’t easy to do but I’m happy I didn’t walk away from you and we still found a way to communicate. Please don’t give up on me because I don’t want to give up on you.

I love you Dad,

Ali Johnson

There is no manual in abuse

my grandfather was sick I got the call last Monday. I thought things would be ok and hope for the best. The sinking feeling in my stomach was call him. The other side of me struggled to bring myself too it.

I called today: I rang the familiar number that never changes. The pit in my stomach grew larger and the wave of unrefined anger rushed out. I hate calling that number and I would hate it even more if she answered. Reminding myself it’s only for my grandfather and I did not have to speak with the demon. His voice answered, and then he didn’t understand whose voice it was. I felt the pang of guilt for walking away when I did. Not only did I leave her I left him behind too. I still feel it was the right thing to do.

We tried small chit-chat about his health. You could cut the tension with a knife it was awkward. I’m still angry as he is still angry. There’s no upside to this pent-up anger. There’s no manual to abusive childhoods and how you supposed to feel. He asked me about my kids and I tried to give small answers. I protect my children at all cost and I feel deep down the devil should never know them. She had us as kids and what she did was unforgivable. I vowed to never let them go through that. I wish I could share the love of my kids with him but there’s one person who stops that.

The line came up asking why I never call. I said I wish to not speak to Laurie. Sickening to even give her name. In the cliché of flying monkey conversation he said if you are mad at her then you might as well be mad at me too.” In the manual of abuse this means I will stand blind to your abuser and not acknowledge what she did. How can someone stand behind what she did? She drugged, lied, hurt, and destroyed the minds of innocent children. She created monsters in their heads. The manual doesn’t cover that abuse wounds never heal properly. They only grow larger and deeper.

He then asked about my dad and my other grandparents with spite. I was so internally angry because my other family are trying. This long battle between them should be put to rest. My grandfather stated he leaves him alone, and they leave him alone and that’s the way he likes it. There is an unspoken dialogue hanging in the air about a battle no one won. The devil tried so hard to destroy their spirit and lie about the truth. She tried to brainwash a child into hating people. It didn’t work and the dirt on everyone’s knees never came clean.

There is no manual to how I feel right now. There’s no book that can teach me the zen of blocking it out. I walked away long ago and I never looked back. Calling in today was not an olive branch. I froze when I really wanted to say my peace. The anger I feel is fire and I really want to douse it with water. There’s no manual, no rules, no truth to it all. I cannot understand how one path in life could be damming when everything else falls in place.

Written by Ali Johnson

Statement for Justice (Patrica Moore, Albertan Animal Abuser)

My mothers charges are coming to trial on July 29th,2020. I was once asked to write a victim impact statement for her character reference. At the time I did want to write one because I wanted to disengage from her. If I had written on it would be what I am writing here on my blog, a very emotional and personal letter. I ask this those who read this to be compassionate and understanding on how this letter will sound.

To whom it may concern,

I am not a victim to my mother Trish Moore. My statement does not make me a victim to her: nor will I allow myself the mentality to be her victim. Circumstance and universes decided my mother would be a birth giver. What I want to say here is who her true victims are and why we should care more. I will tell you why the system has failed each one of them, and I will suggest a change.

My mother has always been keen to finding animals to possess. The common dogs and horses but unlike normal pet owners or ethical breeders she continually abuses them. An ethical breeder knows the care and considers the well-being. Unethical “breeders” much like Patricia Moore cross the grey line of her animals. I have personally witnessed her caging several dogs together and force breeding them without care to make money. An ethical dog breeder will have enough profit money to vet check and uphold health standards. Patricia, the unethical breeder profits on AISH and cannot provide the right funds to the veterinarians to carry out the care. Her animals often go without proper nutrition, this has lead animals in her care to die from neglect and starvation. Even one animal dying from starvation shows a lack empathy and proper decision-making. To conclude that in one case it was thirty-seven horses and sixty-seven dogs and in another forty-three horses and three dead left near a property shows a pattern of continual neglect. Those animals were victims of a malicious human being. Was she incapable of doing the right thing? I don’t believe so.

Horses seized from the Moore property 2019

She could have given up her animals when she realized she did not have adequate means of care. She could have asked for communal help in the which the Albertan Farmer Community gracefully offers. Patricia had open means to the SPCA to find care and support. Due to her 2010 charges she was only supposed to have two horses in her care. I honestly believe if she had kept to two horses this may have manageable. Reflecting back she had no intention of following conditions placed on her. Patricia Moore believes she is above the law. This is not speculation she has shown it with every court case and inspection and conditions she routinely disregards. This wasn’t entirely her fault the SPCA, whom her victims were failed by not investigating after several calls of concern. It took pictures of three dead horses for the SPCA to act accordingly. The horses’ death could have been prevented sooner if Patricia acted in her means of care and the SPCA held up the conditions of law.

Pearl was a horse removed from Patrica Moore. She had to have surgery to fix the hole.

http://www.edmontonjournal.com/sports/Gallery+Horse+mend/3353456/story.html

A horrifying image of Patrica Moors horse lying dead

These animals that died deserve more than thoughts and prayers. They deserve proper justice. Patrica Moore killed these animals, more likely murdered them. She could have done the right thing, she knowingly let the animals suffer. It’s not the first time and if our justice system does not do something to hold her accountable other than a fine: She will go buy more victims to selfishly murder. The people she victimized is one thing but I’m more focused on her silent victims. The ones who get to live in horror and have a long road to recovery. I’m talking about the animals forced to breed when they were close friends to deaths door. Malnourished and unable to feed their young. The animals who lived in filth and unhygienic conditions because she could not be bothered to provide adequate care. Setting the animals up for life ending infections and parasites. Knowingly breeding horses with a gene called lethal white and posting it on her personal Facebook. She bred mares without proper genetic testing to achieve a gene that will kill the foal in instantly and painfully. All of her animals lived at the mercy of death. If that doesn’t hit home to provide a clear message of the horrors Patricia Moore inflicted on these animals: enough to bring justice to the silent victims, then I don’t know how anyone can say they truly care. This is a full statement to the violent, sadistic, human being she is.

Patrica Moore yelling at her protesters outside of court July 2020

I plead to whomever read or hears this please don’t fail her victims another time. I lived with her abuse all my life and I chose to walk away. I’m not a victim because I have a voice and I can walk away. The animals who are dying at her hands cannot speak of the hell they lived through. They are the strongest creatures because they survived because they had no choice to. Justice needs to be made to end the cycle of abuse and send a clear message to other abusers Canadians have had enough. Animal Abuse will no longer be tolerated.

I leave this in the hands of the Canadian Justice System. Will you the Canadian Justice actually take new laws into your hands and hold the felon accountable? Animal blood is on her hands and if you do not act with fruition the blood is now on your hands.

Written by Aleszandria Barg