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She allowed herself to go to the only people who talked to her every time she spoke to lawyers. This renewed feeling of abject poverty had really given her stock of her life. She realized at last how downright lonely and empty she was and how she filled it with the "little relationships". There was a hidden brain talk on these relationships with the shopkeeper, bartender, hair-dresser, passers-by. These people and the fantasies she puts on them are the thrust and gist of her social life. Previously, Lyft drivers were like conversational vacations to her. Now, she took the bus or the long long walks.
Her first spouse had said she was crazy in a different way than the shrinks said, and she was currently exploring it. The symptom she had dismissed so categorically "empty!? I fookin WISH my head was empty. I can't stop thinking to save my life apparently."
Yet, emptiness. Was that the term that made her realize that her numbing sticks and beverages were the only things filling her. Was emptiness the term that the glance of a human can have Maat's feather be heavy or light. She had never before even entertained the possibility that she was anything more or less than: just like everyone else with a body that needs jumper cables every time it wants to start. And those jumper cables are never kind female friends. Those jumper cables are attention from the male species if she thinks you're worthy. It's like a choosy vampire.
She's devastated by this - partly because it does the math that she's doomed to be alone unless she can somehow find the strength to love herself. (What worthy person would choose an aware wreck). The evidence that she loved herself in the past had been the dang tramp stamp she had placed on herself y'all: its very existence means she's not going to kill herself. Yet and but and of course there are slower suicides.
And so the bar/restaurant she has chosen is her therapy. It is the closest place to her besides the Ethiopian place (which never has another soul but take-out pickers uppers). She has recently done math for the first time and continues to do it to her intense displeasure. She was hoping today she might allow herself to buy incense again. It still made her shake her head how very privileged she had been without even knowing it: 30 days and if you spend $20 a day on "little shit" that's $600 and if you spend like she does it's really about $40 a day and the math is shocking. She had been living paycheck to paycheck on top of a bubble of capital. And she wasn't the happiest human being on planet earth. When she was the unknowing rich lady, she would constantly fixate on a single flaw. It would abate for a bit, but her searches were always "lazy spouse unengaged" or "husband never showing initiative" or "Husband takes no responsibility or accountability" or "laziest husband driving me nuts".
The beginning.
In my good days, I had it down. I would make sure the husband was set up in the back room with his video games and any personal chore done. Then, I would bask in my Joh-stick bliss and imagine ... what would I do? I mainly would watch psychology videos - I was studying to get my master's degree and my only day off was Sunday for two years. I also would surf the 'net going and wondering "who on this planet with me and what do we want".
I concur with K. Cobain and could I also write such a pithy accurate poem: "Here we are. Now entertain us."
And as a student of history, and sociology... Sumer threw me for a loop. And Byzantium. And The Good Kings. When you figure out that we've done this many many many many times and there's always some swaying bully that seems to rise to the top and we all collapse into chaos. repeat rinse.
So, to dance in the meantime? are you able to do it? For me, I'm someone that loves me a mission. What's the point of this endeavor. Even children (although I'm less fuck them and their narcissistic extension hell) are usually the purpose for everyone. Maybe that makes the billionaires yacht and 'race for the hottest most envy-inducing fuck trophy' have a fruition. Astrology is a system with tons of things to go "why the fuck would that ever make sense", yet you could be like me and have a thirty year attempt to knock it all down and go "hmmm, I can use this ok." The reason I brought it up is the theory that Aries starts it - the me me me baby then each sign after that takes the mistakes/gifts and tries to directly correct/improve/deepen them. By the time you get to Pisces, you're Jesus/enlightened server.
And why did I pick on you Frank? Because you'll have to watch yourself. At our new bar, you remind me of my friend Greg. You're no physical prize but you could be beautiful in the right eyes. Your boundaries, and you're gruff smart. I could easily see myself "want me". Maybe you'll be the first other human I kiss in eight years. Run frank. run.
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