Posted in Unity Party

God is Greater than I — Count it all joy


We get caught up in doing, INSTEAD of pleasing God by loving Him first.  Hebrews 11:6 (NIV)- “And without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to him must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who earnestly seek him.” We get caught up by doing what we think is His will, instead of […]

God is Greater than I — Count it all joy
Posted in Unity Party

Is the Catholic Church Supporting Rape? Sacred Heart of Jesus Catholic Church, Union Street, Indianapolis, IN.46225


Public Unity Party of "America."'s avatarDonnie Harold Harris

Private: Behind the men’s room door.
SEPTEMBER 9, 2016 Updated July 31, 2017

PUBLIC PARTY OF INDIANA
EDIT “PRIVATE: BEHIND THE MEN’S ROOM DOOR.”
Rate This
Hell-o, My name is Donnie Harold Harris. I was born in Indianapolis, In. at 6.33 Am on 08-01-1953 I was born as the seventh Child of a teenage mother named Mary. My Mother had 10 children in 9 1/2 years. Getting molested by a Family friend @ 12 3/4 years old. My life became a empirical defiant act to survive. I was assaulted three times before this rape on my personal religious and spiritual self. Called a higher self. Shove it up where, What FATHER? When I became born into this place called Hell-Eden, I came willingly upon a great mission, sent By the Highest of High Holiest of all Gods. The God of GOD(s). Brahman sent forth 3 of his sons to settle…

View original post 1,459 more words

Posted in Unity Party

THE EIGHT IDENTITIES OF THE SINGLE SELF. — Public Party of Indiana- The Children’s Party


Public Unity Party of "America."'s avatarPublic Unity Party of America -The Children's Party

THE SHORT CUT TO BECOMING GOD. When one takes in his first breath he becomes alive an subject to all of life and its stage of the game called life existence. There is not a knowingness of existence except as a single self. With its desire to exist. Later with momma’s tit, he becomes aware […]

THE EIGHT IDENTITIES OF THE SINGLE SELF. — Public Party of Indiana- The Children’s Party

View original post

Posted in donnie harold harris, Unity Party

Five years old-1958


I started school, kindergarten five weeks after turning five. I still recall how terrified I was that morning. I had no idea how much pain my mom was in. The school I went to was on west Morris street, just east of Belmont. We would move in and out of this neighborhood dozens of times. Rhodes Park was a block away. It would be the location of the first Race riot I would be involved in latter at eight years old or so. I was pushed by a young black boy. I told my older cousin Leon. Who went over and beat him to a pulp. About an hour later, the park was loaded with young black men. They stormed the city park and pool area. I ran up the steps. Running for my life. I went to the back and climbed out on one of the water tanks and slid off, running to safety. This park the separating area between what was known as the Valley and the Hill areas.

After several moves, I finished kindergarten and the first grade. Lon failed the first grade. I went to the second grade when we were moved to Mr. Uncle Howard and aunt Margurite’s house and their son Ronnie. My first cousin. I was pushed back one year in school, putting Lonnie and me back in the same grade. This is when I would tell my class about the death of my younger brother only to have the entire level laugh about it. I was puzzled. We also were held up to ridicule when the free milk we had been receiving in our old school was not given at this new one. I went up for mine and was told to go sit down. I had not paid for the milk. The entire dining hall laughed. Uncle Howard worked at night. He followed an exact routine. He had 10 silver dollars on his dresser to show Lonnie and me how long his dick was. All while his son would molest us every day after school.

Lonnie got into trouble for the first time for showing his dick to a young girl next store. Aunt Margarete loved to use a switch to beat us with unreserved. We finally moved back to moms Only to be handed over to the Devil Herself. Larry _ Loretta Blankenship. Our new stepmom. Dad’s unique answer to his kid’s problems. Four boys would go to live with him. Four went to live with mom. Two went to mom’s mom and dad. The two oldest. The four youngest, all boys, to dad and Larry’s apt. On Collage over a grocery store. She gets her own chapter.

Posted in Unity Party

Two to four is everything OK?


As you could imagine what would happen when you have 10 kids in ten years with a Mom starting at 12 and a dad at 15? Lots of things, Like Rats biting three of the children and trips to the General Hospital and Shots in the stomach. There were rats everywhere in the 50’s and 60’s. One time while visiting my dads mom in Kentucky I woke in the middle of the night with her standing over me with a broom. I was sleeping on a quilt on her dirt floor when she said it was OK she had shooed the rat away. I rolled over and went back to sleep. My dad had 12 in his family mostly brothers. Lots of girl cousins. My Uncle Bob had no children so he accosted others family members girls. He would play mind games with the boys. We moved so often I thought it was normal. I would go to 21 grade school before I started at 9th grade at Manuel High School in Indianapolis. In the summer of 68. I had about 100 teacher. Had 1000 kids I had to meet. Some schools we went to two or three times. We lived in a hundred plus different house. We moved in the middle of the night a lot. My dad being a musician and all would get off work at 2 A.M. Most teachers were temporary parents. Some were hostel. One was ms Marshall or Hall at school 20 or 49 on Pleasant run south parkway. She would make me stand on my toes at the chalk board in front of the whole class as she would marginalizing me. Tell the story that she taught Gus Grissom in grade school, I think the second grade, In Mitchell Indiana. He was an astronaut. She knew good boys and I was no good at all. All while I had my nose on the chalk board in a piece of gum I was chewing on. She did not realize That was my breakfast. More on my step mom later. In the four year old range I was attacked again. This time by a stranger. We had moved into this new house and I went into the back yard exploring. I soon wondered into the ally where I was dumb founded to discover a lot of mail laying on the ground by a trash can used to burn trash. It was burning at the time. I was sure of one thing at that young age. Mail was very important. Money came in them envelopes sometimes. I picked up a stack and started to look threw it. Then out of know where a Young man grabbed me by the arm. He said that stealing mail would cause me to go to jail. He was going to call the police on me. He dragged me into his house terrified I was going to jail. My dad was beat up by the cops all the time so I new what this meant. He then dragged me into a small back bedroom where there was two twin beds. He forced me to give him head. He came in my mouth. I spit it out. He then said to get out of his yard and run cause he was going to call the police now. I went home as fast as possible and ran straight into my mom. I told her to please hide me. That the police were looking for me. Commonly she as why. I told her what had happened all of it. She then called the police herself. I hid in the bedroom as the door was knocked on and opened. I was a policeman come in. Gun and all. I run an hid under the bed. Some how I figure my mom had talked the police out of arresting me. I would not realized she had called the police on him until I was in my 20’s. I believe a police report was made on this. I also found some candy left in our medicine cabinet and eat it. I had to go to General Hospital to get my stomach pumped out. Turns out it was medicine. One day at grandmas house I was chasing Lonnie, my mirror twin, around the house between the bushes and the house when he feel on a coffee can. It was sticking out of his head when he followed my coward self into the kitchen. Mom and grandma were shocked to see him walk in calmly with the can stick into his forehead. He could not feel pain until he was a teenager. Or longer. A condition of some kind. I would become immersed into a life time of being a three year old, according to the Wonderful lady I had as a Psychologist at the Va. This would be the Time frame for the death by Pneumonia of my youngest Brother, Randy at ten months old. Mom would have her tenth and final child a few months later.