is this this. question marks are optional and ties are a must. the oiling process begins again. the hinges squeak, and the joints and nodules grate and grind tightly down. amid the urge to purge or give in to bed. tonight r just blew it. I�m so angry that I�m not yet able to put it into words just how angry. not really. these words are mere approximations and i am now quoting myself without you knowing it. these words are mere approximations to the myriad thoughts that build and layer one atop the other. my reality is not his. his adulthood consists of payment and currency, but being beholden to none. I am the reverse. I do not want to be with him anymore. how can I tell him so without telling him so. without saying the words. we�re going to break eventually and I think that he just wants me to hold out until he�s transferred. because then that�s a good enough excuse. he�s not going to marry me. he hasn�t shown any interest in the things and people that are important to me. he doesn�t want to be in my life he wants me to be in HIS. he doesn�t understand me and its making me insane. I�m not scared of him or his anger or his violence anymore. i can scream just as loud, though these days i have learned to catch and trap my rage in a glass jar. a killjar, if you will.
but where was i anyway? its old news, this grit grunt and snarl.. probably as old as my tears are to him although I have not broken down to him or because of him in quite a long stretch. and of this i am proud. I can�t believe he wouldn�t let me leave. I can�t believe he would just let me stay knowing how terrified and nervous I was about my dad�s health. goddamn him for that.
the last time something like this happened was when I was with andy and my dad was rushed to the hospital because of the asthma. I remember crying and praying. this was way before my cousin of twenty years ended up dying from a heartattack that was brought on by a severe asthma attack. it runs in my blood this affliction.. fears and worries made manifest in the lungs.
I don�t expect anyone to understand or feel compassion. I don�t expect anyone to care very much, after all everyone has their own set of challenges and illnesses. i don't expect help from clean outstretched hands. after all no one helped my gram'ma when she feel backwards on the ridges of danger along a rising escalator step.
And I�m such a dope for thinking or believing that he was going to be different from everyone. he is not different. he is a boy and boys pretend to be something they�re not so that girls will fuck them or blow them or keep them company when they become lonesome or stressed or ulcer ridden�. boys just use girls. end of story. and yes I know that there are girls out in the world that just use certain boys but I�m not talking about them. I don�t know any of them. I don�t care about any of them. he doesn�t know what he almost did to both me and my dad by trying to convince me (hell, I should just say what I mean.. and I mean strong arm me) to stay longer.. for his pleasure.. because it pleases him, I must abide by the commandments. fuck him. fuck them all. I don�t need anyone.
i am a rock / i am an island / and a rock feels no pain / and an island never ries
s & g hit it right on the point. and now an attempt at the shut-eye dance.01:33 - Sunday, Feb. 27, 2005
Recent entries:
oday.html">the 3 month countdown begins - 05 May 2018
anothrburst.html">another burst - this used to be my playground
newlife.html">begin at the beginning. - 10 April 2008
moody.html">a blanket for a bad mood under the sun. - 25 March 2007
emilludwig.html">...kissing a fool... - 05 December 2006
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