I never blame anyone. I have been and continue to be judged harshly for what has happened in the course of my life.

So I think the truth is I personally, really, deserve another chance to live in love how I’ve always wanted to live.

You can believe me or not now, but much of how you look at me is demonic in christian worlds and defunct in your own world and you have no impetus to change your dark attitudes about Cara Ann Beaty-Coffey.

Cool. Your loss is my gain.

I think we need to admit the “fun-house mirror of itself…” within our religious midst and say, once and for all, fuck religion and also though, as seen by the book above, fuck the exact opposite–which is all the arguing against it.

We have nothing to lose but anger at one another, so here goes.

I am a pagan and a christian, an agnostic and an atheist at times because of what I have been through and what you are going through. Let’s face it. Any generation X mother is in love with the children she grew in her womb as she tended all kinds of things and lived a supposed well-protected life.

It’s like my very life story confirms I”m insane to have wanted to do life the way I did it–according to most anyone who knows me intimately which means you’ve been forced, literally I have to use the word “forced” here since I am treated how I am and have been for years–you are forced to live with me.

Shrug my shoulders and remind you that I love you, I miss you still, and I even got someone close to me today to understand what I meant when I told him I wasn’t going to cry if he died before me.

It was assumed sarcastically I meant the sentiment darkly. I meant what I said as a clairvoyant everyone rejects the same way they rejected Jesus Christ over 2,000 years ago (let’s admit the book I just featured above is proving for the umpteenth time that Jesus Christ is a myth)–

Like this: I see your pain every day as a spiritualist. You are going to rest in peace as a faithful person after you breathe your last and I will not cry for you. I will cry if we cannot figure out how to (in your worlds) stop verbally fighting after you die, but otherwise, I won’t cry for you. You are loving everyone (and as a clairvoyant I always see your love too) every day to the best of your ability; therefore, you will not be wept for as you go to the other side as a saint who works every day in love with yourself and everyone.

I have decided to make my story for this rendering about the Beaty family and leave everyone else out of it. Everyone hates everyone in words most of the time anyway. Bullying is a way of life in my 50 state existence and experience.

So, there you go. We are crossing the bounds of the Good Book we say we live by every single day in so many places, we do not any longer know the truth that supposedly “sets us free” with that “yoke is easy” exhortation and loving hope message on the “good and moral” side of all debate, supposedly said by a Man who is a myth to most if not all the world system in 2026.

I am going to try to use pictures, text from my defunct author life’s book, and just my own common sense to show you what is happening to all of us at various stages of demoralization in this horrible political atmosphere we are living within in 50 States.

“I was born in Dallas, Texas, at Baylor Hospital on April 14, 1966, to Robert H. and Mary Virginia Beaty. I have one sibling, Patrick, who was born on December 10, 1962. He died September 27, 1980, at the age of seventeen from a heart condition which strikes a person suddenly. Patrick was jogging with my father and me in the early morning when he collapsed and went unconscious the first time in 1978. He was miraculously revived at the hospital and lived two more years. During that time, he testified of his miraculous recoverat at a multistate church retreat and conference in Denver, CO.

In 1980, Patrick was convicted by the Holy Spirit. He was under strict doctor supervision and wasn’t allowed to exercise. He had to take medication. But in this state of affairs in his life, he felt that he understood how he was giving into fear of the wrong kind to not do some of his normal activities that he used to do before his first collapse in 1978. So he told my father one day right before his death that he had to come against this fear. He was going to begin to jog again.

However, he never stopped taking his medications though the side effects were difficult for him to live with because he was sleepy all the time. The other thing he told my father was that he loved his sister very much as he told Dad what he was going to do. Dad released my brother. Then Patrick died while a neighbor boy was timing his first jog after his initial collapse.”

This picture above is from the 50th Anniversary party of my parents. The feature image is the same timeframe, and He was a home church leader for many years in and around ATX.

Dad and Uncle Paul in my dad’s Yellow Truck that Uncle John got for him. Uncle John is my mother’s brother. On the Right side is Uncle John Beaty, Eara Davis Beaty’s oldest child. He was in an accident and fell from a building, surviving it but lost his equilibrium. It was the family joke how if the lights went out, we all knew to get the lights on and get Uncle John off the floor because he didn’t know his up from his down in the dark. He walked with a cane and breathed with one lung, if my recollection is correct. He lived his life in Florida but visited when his littlest brother was building our House of Goldenwood about 40 years ago.

Uncle Paul’s favorite vehicle is on the left. ON the right, from left to right, Robert H Beaty, Jr, John Beaty, Cara Beaty, Aunt Audrey Beaty, and Uncle Robert Paul Beaty

This is the true Hill Country in and around our capital city of Texas, Austin.

I am proving what I said in a YouTube here. I will NOT disrespect the KJV Bible and cut the writings of Apostle Paul (NOT my Robert Paul Davis-Beaty haha) out of the New Testament. Instead, I found an old book I can enjoy carefully, have told you the blog I am putting my artwork in which is the pretty book above the old book’s binding with the title, and now am showing you all the pages I won’t read.

I forgive the Apostle Paul for being so hard in teaching on women all those years ago.

I curse the rest of it for these years since those writings were put in my KJV Bibles at home.

Amen.