In the daylight I felt my body quake
Warmth of the sun on my back
The sound of his breath in my ear
A cat meowing on the fire escape
I padded across to the kitchen
My studio apartment felt woken
As if my stretch and yawn caused a stir
The man however didn’t
Put on the coffee
Crack a few eggs
Scramble it with some whole milk
Talk to the cat
It had appeared one rainy fall
Cats normally choose you
He? She? It? November?
Came with the scent of burning wood and onset rain
Autumn was the greatest time of year
Sweater weather, Comfiness
The love and appreciation of what you have
November came with a loud meow
An orange tabby
With brown highlights
Begging for safety
They smelled the rain too
Ran inside as the window opened
A relationship
Not ownership
Comes and goes when sees fit
Has a bed, food, and water
Leaves presents on the fire escape
Only comes in when it rains and to eat
Says good morning and good night
Studies, cooks and sings with me
The man stirred and raised quickly
Nightmare? Slept so good was unaware?
Where he was, who he was with
His focus came slow just like his sly smile
November came in
Meowing as if asking who he was
“A friend who stayed over. Handsome, right?”
The man’s smile turned boyish
Hand stretched out to welcome this authority
November must have approved
Jumped in the man’s lap
Purring and kneading his bare skin
Brown boy
Orange cat
Moring glory
Let’s eat
November enjoyed a bowl of wet food Between I and him
Trusted, but know your place
November kept an eye on him
Woodstock Aftermath
TRIGGER WARNING
She could feel the judgment as people passed her outside her apartment building. Hair disheveled, loose short shorts, breasts swinging in a shirt, and belly peaking out. “I thought it was finally safe. I thought the time had come. We had waited so long because we understood why Mom always kept us apart.” She thought to herself as she felt the anger coming off her father, who passed her like garbage on the side of the street.
It was a great weekend. She hadn’t experienced such familial love as at her first time in Woodstock. Her friend invited her to a tradition she thought only existed on television. Close to a camping experience; she ate a sno-cone for the first time, bathed in a river, watched boys and men do stereotypical manly things.
She was always awkward and selfish, yet til this day they seemed to love her. She came home to have a heart-to-heart with her dad, a conversation she only dreamed of. He was always her favorite parent, partially because he wasn’t there, and it was something to aspire to. Her mother was the anxious type, doing everything in her power to keep her little one safe.
The two of them, daughter and father, sat on the couch. Her father opened up about being in love with a man and showing him off to the family. She loved that he was finally unafraid to be open. To her, to the family, to himself. She opened up about the first girl, actually the first person, to admit to liking her. Usually, she was only the butt of a joke. How she wasn’t even sure of her sexuality, because nothing was truly sexy. Only aesthetically pleasing.
This conversation was only reserved for the letters they used to write each other. Usually, it was him in recovery, writing the letters of apology. This is why, when her mom died, she still didn’t live with him. She waited until college, after freshman year. The first time that they had ever lived together, the first time he would actually get to see her. First time she spent longer than a few hours during the summer on a Sabbath with him. It all came to this beautiful conversation on the couch, where they talked til the sun came up.
Her goal was to finally clean her room. A task that has plagued her whole life. She started the task, creating piles in her room and outside of it. Till she finally got too tired and took a short nap. A nap that only lasted forty-five minutes. She awoke to her father in her doorframe, a completely different person. Through gritted teeth, he said, “Where is he? I saw you two through the window, fucking.” She looked around at the chaos of the room. You couldn’t hide a grown man here. There were only two other grown men besides her father who could be here. One was gay, and the other she had been calling uncle; neither was here.
“What are you talking about, daddy?”
“I saw the two of you through the window. I saw you two fucking. Why are you trying to lie? You must think I’m stupid.”
“We just talked all night about how I’ve never been with anyone. Why would I choose now, when I was just sleeping, to sleep with Uncle?”
“I saw it. Get your shit and get the fuck out of my house. In fact, just get out of my sight.”
All she did was get a MetroCard and her cell phone, running down the stairs to the front of the apartment building. Lucky for her, there was someone to run to who wasn’t too far away. She had work later that day. First thing she would do was sleep; she only had four hours before she needed to go to work.
The person she ran to drove back to the house. She went in to get the only money she had to her name and a little bit of clothes. She’d hope her father was still out. After packing a little bag, getting her books, her laptop, and her money. She felt it. Anger hot at her back, he appeared out of nowhere. Silent, seething.
“Why are you back in my house?”
“I needed to get money and some clothes.”
The house was trashed. He had cut up the couches with a knife. Taken the paintings off the wall and ruined them. Upset that she was back in his house and still trying to lie. He picked up the nearest thing and launched it at her. If you asked him today, he swears up and down it wasn’t at her head. She’ll tell you that it was a twenty-five-pound metal dumbbell flying past her ear into the wall behind her. Bawling her eyes out, she makes sure she has all her money, as much as she can physically carry, and starts her ten-hour shift.
Her phone ran off the hook while at work. When she had a chance, she called one of the many people who were calling. They informed her that he dad had been taken to the hospital. That the police were called, and tried to ask her what was going on. She just said how the two of them had a heart-to-heart, then she woke up with him upset.
“Your father had a three-day binge while you were upsate. They called the cops when he started threatening to kill himself and threw the couch out on the fire escape. You need to bring your father some clothes and things to the hospital.”
She doesn’t even know how she got there after her shift. She said goodbye to her coworkers and exited the building. She came to in the hospital lobby, terrified. There were people in beds in the hallway. She prayed she could get to a nurse to ask questions before accidentally running up on her father. She got a nurse’s attention and asked for her father by name. The nurse’s eyes go wide with knowing. Her dad’s hallucinations were the talk of the hospital floor.
“It isn’t safe for you to see him at the moment. He is still very upset but subdued. You can leave me his stuff.”
They let her peek around the corner to see her father strapped down to a hospital bed, rapid eye movement fluttering his eyelids.
She couldn’t believe that just twenty-four hours ago, she felt like she was in Paradise. She returned to her savior’s home, not even sure how she got there. Now she would need to hurry and find herself an apartment, preferably before junior year started. If only she could go back to Woodstock.
Why I Like Media About Suicide
The universe seems to open up for the person thinking of it. For most of the movies and books out there about it, that is. It’s as if the whole universe decides to let them see why it’s worth continuing. Side quests and random relationships that change the whole perspective. I love all the different forms of media because I feel everything as if I were the main character. When reading, I don’t read and see what is described; I feel what is described, crystal clear.
When I first started smoking weed and ingesting edibles, I started to dream more and remember it. My dreams were always weird, and only once in a blue moon were they too real. One time, I took an edible and woke up, checking my arm to see if there was a bullet wound. Before getting shot I was engrossed in what was playing out in front of my eyes. They were talking to me but I didn’t feel like I was involved, until I got shot.
Dreams became another medium where I can feel a person’s emotions. Of course, the ones I know best and can understand are the strong emotions. I’m an addict of suffering. The amount of Japanese dramas and movies I would watch to have it tear my heart apart. The suicide ones always have a happy ending, usually, in some way or another. Someone, whether it was the friend who had to stay after the person was gone, or the actual person contemplating it. The air of hope and promise is so thick you can choke on it.
It’s amazing how fragile everyone is, yet we don’t speak it. It is also amazing what happens when we choose life. Such a beautiful masterpiece waiting to be woven, with others, with art, with love.
The Last Christmas
We come to a scene in Long Island, NY. A big red house on a small side road of the only highway in or out of the hamptons. A single mother and a teenager from a class you don’t hear much about in this area. The holidays are all about traditions, this small family was surely different. The daughter, Aminah, had no wants other than to live comfortably. Something she knew was overly ambitious. The mother, Denise, was a dreamer who brought her daughter into the world in hopes to change it. With their family of two the tradition of Christmas was simple. Start shopping two weeks before and buy the tree two days before. Nothing else would be done until the twenty-third, starting with finally putting the lights and bulbs on the tree. Then all day Christmas eve the two of them will work until two or three am wrapping all the presents, putting the finishing touches on the tree, and baking at least five dozen cookies for aunts and uncles.
That was their tradition for the past decade, a smooth dance the two of them completed each year. This one would be diffrent though, and the last one the two of them would spend together. Aminah knew this despite her mother trying her best to console her. The whole year Denise had been in and out of the hospital. This was the first month they had been in their own apartment, and together, since March. Aminah had heard whisperings of Denise denying a gift of a kidney from a classmates family memeber. It seemed each day her mother grew sicker, and her biggest fears were coming true. The clock struck ten, and Denise called Aminah into her room.
“I’ll get up in an hour and we can start setting everything up.” Aminah looked at her mother, pale, slightly out of breath because she had missed dialysis for a few days. “It’s fine, mom. I can do it. Just rest and I’ll see you in the morning.”
She tested the different sets of lights, putting up her favorite bulbs and mixing them with the ones they had bought the other day. Tinsel all around the tree, while she chuckled thining about he cute elves from Santa Clause breaking everyone out with it. Lastly, she wrapped her mom’s presents, there would be no cookies this year. She finished everything around five in the morning, checked on her mom before finally going to bed.
Waking up four hours later, Aminah went to her mom’s room for them to open their presents. Denise began to cry as soon as she entered the living room. “You did such a great job, Aminah! The most beautiful tree we’ve had, for sure.” As always, to her surprise, there were about ten extra presents under the tree with her name on it. Aminah still doesn’t know how her mom was able to hide her presents; they would just appear under the tree. When did her mom do it? It had looked like she hadn’t moved since the morning. Most people then watch the parades or Christmas movies, but Aminah was never a fan of these things. So the two of them tuned into the radio and switched from the Oldies station, Delilah, and BLI. Music should never stay in one decade when being listened to.
Aminah started brunch, her signature dish, scrambled eggs with cheese and pancakes. The two sat singing songs, eating, and not talking about the elephant in the room. A beautiful memory, indeed.
Fountain of Youth
I remember the year that I started to lose faith in systems. I was four or five years old and always teased. I was fat, but wasn’t afraid of wearing belly shirts. My hair was always a mess, never becoming of a lady. My name was Ladybird regardless. I was always daydreaming about being anywhere, but where my body was at fake attention.
This one particular week was hard, a child in adult business. It started with a fight with one of my classmates, who would hold the gate for leaving time. The girl who felt like the meanest to me bit me to try and win the prize of brown nose. I will forever be stubborn about being useful; it was the only time I was seen outside of my mother.
The same girl will end up biting me again about six years later for the same reason. What were the two of us to learn?
A pattern, you get hurt for minding others’ business.
On the last day of the week, when all the kids but three left, there was a big, beautiful Jaguar in the parking lot. We played outside, waiting for our parents to take us home. I convinced my friends that we should play with our toy cars on the beautiful, sleek expensive car. We raced on that beautiful paint job, scratching perfect bold lines all around it. A lady came out and screamed and our parents came out apologizing. I can see then and now why it was wrong. However, I can still feel the satisfaction of that lady understanding what it feels like to lose something valuable. I had only convinced my friends because I had heard her say, “I am sorry but there is nothing we can do. The day care is in violation and must be shut down.” I bet a petty child with great intuition could rule a nation, but, the arrogance will always bring it to ruin.
Prayers
Sleep, work, break to eat, work, home, eat, and sleep again
Same thing different day
When you were a kid you were the only one who didn’t want to grow up
You were the only one that seemed to understand the truth
Nothing gets better, you can buy things to mask, but don’t get addicted
You prayed
Not having to make choices
Nothing no longer being unfair
No longer fearing letting them all down
You prayed
You understood that there was probably a plan
A plan that you didn’t know
A plan you should follow, it was neither right or wrong
You prayed to no longer be apart of that plan
You prayed for eternal sleep
Yet, here you are twelve years later with nothing on your feet
Your life in a cardboard box
People giving you looks
Pity, shame, hatred and
You pray no one else will fall to this
The Silver Cylinder
This is my safe place. Since five years old, when I came to this Elementary school, I would take solace in this space. Before school, recess, after school; now a place in my mind I go to. It kept me safe from the wind and cold in winter. In summer, it burned my skin the way that I like, candle wax that I can feel on something other than my hand.
My thoughts race as I watch the kids play on the playground. I am other and feel I can never belong. Why do I want to belong? I think of my parents, aunts, uncles and their responsibilities. Til this day even when I have a lot of responsibility I feel no one thinks me worthy. I didn’t want what they had anyway. There is nothing I want to do other than live, experience all of the things possible to experience. As a child I can understand that money allows you to do that, that some have more than others. Why does that exist when we have all we need around us? What is value when we are only living?
These are questions I was too young to ask, and only asked myself. How does a five year old with no hope answer them? Throughout the rest of my life I go through the motions knowing that I am not meeting the milestones of the world. I just couldn’t understand the reason and felt I had already lost. I breathe in, the enclosed space of the cylinder allows me to feel comfort. Warmth, heat, fire, and safety; the only feelings I can put my finger on. Sadly, to this day I can put my finger on but still don’t understand.
It’s the end of the world. I have no job. I am not living in any place. My body is here, my soul is dead, and I wonder what freedom truly is. I start to scoot out of my cylinder, the sound of my chains echoing throughout. When I was five, I’m sure I pictured myself here, yet I never gave up, only talked about it. Is it time to throw it in?
Happy Birthday, Mommy!
If my mother were still alive, she would have been sixty-four. I still can’t believe I lived nearly twenty years without her. Through my writing and my life adventures, I hope to continue to understand her. There aren’t many people to ask about her. I hope to create an autobiography showcasing what a great woman she was. When she passed, I only heard stories that made her sound crazy and lonely. She was too beautiful for that to be the only truth.
Introducing The Lovely Penelope Foundation & Common Treasury Mutual Aid Fund: A New Vision for Economic Security
A Whitepaper by [Penelope LuQuita] | October 2025
What if survival wasn’t a struggle?
Too many people spend their lives working for a paycheck, constantly stressed about covering the most basic living expenses. I believe the five basic needs—housing, food, utilities, healthcare, and transportation—should be guaranteed as actual basics, automatically provided and paid for without question.
My vision is to create a legally compliant ecosystem that achieves this through two distinct but affiliated non-profit organizations working together with a network of worker-owned cooperatives. This isn’t just a dream—it’s a practical, replicable model for transforming how we support each other and build economic justice.
The Two-Part Structure
1. Common Treasury Mutual Aid Fund (501(c)(4))
A social welfare organization with one core purpose: paying essential bills for its members. Imagine never worrying about rent, utilities, or healthcare costs again. The Mutual Aid Fund takes care of your survival needs so you can focus on what truly matters—creativity, family, contribution, and growth.
2. The Lovely Penelope Foundation (501(c)(3))
A public charity focused on broader charitable work and community innovation. The Foundation accepts tax-deductible donations and funds transformative projects like medical research co-ops, community programs, and public benefit initiatives.
Together, these two organizations anchor a network of worker-owned cooperatives formed by freelancers and independent workers. This dual structure creates expert-driven, democratically governed enterprises, all connected in mutual support.
The Problem We’re Solving
The current economic system, especially in America, rewards those who operate as businesses or corporate entities—leaving individuals, freelancers, and independent workers at a systemic disadvantage. When society fails to guarantee the five fundamental needs, the consequences are devastating:
- Health Crisis: Chronic health problems like diabetes and heart failure emerge from constant stress and inability to manage life’s essentials.
- Housing Instability: The cracks in our system push people toward homelessness. No one can do everything alone, and support is often insufficient or inaccessible.
- Desperation-Driven Crime: The struggle to meet basic needs leads people to desperate measures—theft, violence, and survival behaviors that harm communities.
Without a new model, these cycles of scarcity, trauma, and inequality will persist, holding back not just individuals but the collective potential of our communities.
How The Ecosystem Works
Step 1: Formation of Co-ops
Individuals—each with their own small business (LLC)—come together to form a cooperative. The co-op acts as a liaison or temp agency, helping members find jobs and build valuable business networks.
Step 2: Work and Revenue
Clients pay the co-op directly for services (not individual members). The co-op pays member LLCs for their work and covers basic operating costs.
Step 3: Surplus Transfer
After expenses, any co-op surplus (remaining profit) is transferred to the Common Treasury Mutual Aid Fund.
Step 4: Bill Payment by the Mutual Aid Fund
The Mutual Aid Fund uses these transferred surpluses to pay essential living bills for members—focusing first on Tier 1 survival needs like rent, utilities, and healthcare.
For special needs or transformative projects (Tier 2), members can apply for grants from the Mutual Aid Fund—for example, medical equipment or launching new co-ops.
Step 5: Public Charity and Community Proposals
Anyone in the ecosystem can propose creating new co-ops or projects that serve the group’s mission.
Separately, co-ops and their members can make voluntary, tax-deductible charitable donations to The Lovely Penelope Foundation. The Foundation uses these funds for public-facing charitable work, such as medical research or community programs.
Step 6: Nonprofit Oversight
As separate 501(c)(4) and 501(c)(3) entities, the Mutual Aid Fund and the Foundation ensure legal compliance, transparent accounting, and democratic community participation in all major decisions.
Step 7: Co-op Engagement in Community Work
To leverage the specialized skills of our cooperative network for public good:
- A. The Foundation Leads: The Lovely Penelope Foundation identifies a community need and designs a charitable program to address it (e.g., free engineering consultation for a local community center).
- B. The Foundation Contracts the Co-op: The Foundation enters into a fair-market-value contract with the appropriate specialized co-op to perform the work.
- C. The Foundation Pays: The Foundation pays the co-op for its services using charitable assets. Co-ops may choose to perform work at a reduced rate, with the discount qualifying as a tax-deductible in-kind donation.
The Impact: Why This Matters
1. True Economic Security
Members no longer live in fear of eviction, service shutoffs, or going without healthcare. Their basic expenses are guaranteed by the Mutual Aid Fund, freeing mental space and time for growth, creativity, and community contribution.
2. Healthier, More Stable Communities
Reliable access to essentials drastically reduces stress-induced illnesses and chronic conditions. People can focus on managing health, not just surviving.
3. A New Pathway to Equality
By structuring membership around LLCs and co-ops, individuals unlock business-level privileges and protections—closing gaps that traditional employment or aid systems leave wide open.
4. Stronger Mutual Aid & Innovation
The Mutual Aid Fund’s grant system allows for both urgent needs and ambitious projects. Through The Lovely Penelope Foundation, tax-deductible funding can be raised for public-facing innovations like medical breakthroughs or community solutions.
5. Lower Social Costs
With existential needs met, desperation-driven crime, homelessness, and costly emergency interventions are reduced. The whole society benefits—from more safety, less bureaucracy, and increased prosperity.
6. Model for Systemic Change
This ecosystem isn’t just a charity—it’s a working example of a more humane economy, where collective ownership and automated mutual aid make survival stress obsolete. It could be replicated or scaled, influencing city/state policies or even new forms of governance.
Evidence and Real-World Inspiration
While this proposal is visionary, it draws upon successful elements from the real world:
- Cooperative Models: Global examples like Mondragon in Spain and successful worker co-ops in the US prove that collective ownership and resource pooling create resilient communities and sustainable businesses.
- Nonprofit Mutual Aid: In times of crisis, mutual aid networks have paid bills and saved homes for thousands—demonstrating the effectiveness of distributed, community-driven support.
- Similar Systems: Local credit unions and Native banking consortia have already proven the power of group action for financial empowerment, especially among marginalized groups.
Join Us: Next Steps and Invitation
You are invited to join, support, or build alongside this ecosystem.
For Freelancers/LLCs:
Connect and co-create a new co-op with us. Bring your work, your skills, and your needs—we’ll strive to guarantee your economic security through the Mutual Aid Fund.
For Partners/Funders:
Help us launch the first cohorts, develop the bill-pay infrastructure for the Mutual Aid Fund, and track our impact. Support the public charitable work of The Lovely Penelope Foundation with tax-deductible contributions.
For Innovators and Changemakers:
Propose new co-ops, breakthrough projects, or medical/social experiments—let’s make mutual empowerment tangible.
For Policymakers/Advocates:
Use this model as a roadmap for wider reforms or pilots in your city, state, or organization.
Contact
[Penelope LuQuita]
[Email: 2ripcmuji@mozmail.com]
Let’s turn survival into a guarantee and free people to build what matters most.
About the Author
Penelope LuQuita is a freelancer, mutual aid organizer, and visionary founder of the Common Treasury ecosystem. With lived experience as a staff worker and a deep commitment to accessibility and equity, Penelope brings unique insight, empathy, and practical know-how to the pursuit of economic security for all. Driven by a passion to transform the system so survival becomes a guarantee—not a struggle—Penelope is building new pathways to collective flourishing.
What do you think?
I’d love to hear your thoughts, questions, and ideas. Please leave a comment below or reach out directly. If this vision resonates with you, consider sharing this post with others who might be interested in building a more just and sustainable economy together.
Let’s reimagine what’s possible when we take care of each other’s basic needs.
Copyright © 2025 by [Penelope LuQuita]. All rights reserved.
This document may not be reproduced or distributed in whole or in part without attribution to the author. “The Lovely Penelope Foundation,” “Common Treasury Mutual Aid Fund,” and associated concepts are the intellectual property of Penelope LuQuita. Use of the name or materials requires written permission.
Legal Disclaimer: This whitepaper describes conceptual models and is provided for informational purposes only; it is not legal, tax, or financial advice. Any implementation of these ideas should be undertaken in consultation with qualified legal, tax, and regulatory professionals to ensure full compliance with all applicable laws.
This is an AI document. I am posting this because more than ever something like this is needed. I believe it can work. I will start posting about history of Co-ops and the Co-ops already in place that I believe could be the starting point.
inquisitivepenelope 