Reflections from a REAL-LIFE KAREN

Reading this post over again gave me more than a few chills. I wrote it almost a year before I ever started writing on Substack. At that time, I never would have dreamed I would be where I am today, researching these issues so deeply and building this amazing community. I’m so thankful for this writing journey and the opportunity to share it with my readers.

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The Power of Words

I well remember walking out from that last board meeting in a high rise in Century City, and taking the elevator down to the street. When I reached the bottom floor and went outside, I looked back up at where I had been. I would never reach those heights again and it didn’t matter. I felt an incredible weight lifting from my shoulders. I had done what I knew was right. I was free.

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Happily Slipping into Our Straight Jackets

We are slaves to the pharmaceutical companies and they like it that way. Billions of dollars are at stake. This pandemic has given mega companies, in collusion with government, a pathway to increased control over every aspect of our lives. We know that drugs are a plague. Yet, just like tobacco use, just like drinking that poison called Coca Cola, we keep on “chasing the dragon.”

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Trouble in Paradise

A few months ago I walked out of my house to find a razor sharp javelin stuck in the middle of my front door. It was at eye level, right where my forehead would have been if I’d opened the small window in the door. I guess if I’d looked, I wouldn’t be here right now. I’d be dead.

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Death of Free Speech

the normalization of silence & fear “Why you fool, it’s the educated reader who CAN be gulled. All our difficulty comes with the others. When did you meet a workman who believes the papers? He takes it for granted that they’re all propaganda and skips the leading articles. He buys his paper for the football […]

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The Game of Life

I start here, on the night of November 6, 2016, the night Donald Trump became president. That night will forever be imprinted on my brain, driving from my home in Woodland Hills to Silvia’s sister’s house in Fontana. Fires blazed on the skyline. Police cars raced in the opposite direction on the freeway, sirens blaring, lights flashing. The country was on the verge of chaos, angered that this orange man bad had been elected, or so it seemed he would be.

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