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reading my first posts -
so
very
painful to know the cruelty
the complete delusional madness
and fear.
the time before, was a divorce I
consciously made happen
the time just now was a divorce I
unconsciously made happen
here I sit.
no wonder I don't re-read my writing very often.
it hits me so
different
as it would
thirty was the only decade birthday that I ever loved.
forty was death and terror and abusive
fifty was death of love and existence and torpor.
but I was a cruel bitch - god to read me and to even know the single-minded jet plane of madness... it's devastating to read.
my only hope is that young narcissi was trying to get a writing career launched and wanted to be entertaining? but it's so delusional all of it , but of course I would say that from a twenty
yard
glance
the aftershocks of the earthquakes are so humbling.
I'm happy it's Sunday
I don't think I'm as scared knowing the house will be subsidized
always security.
where was my respect
where was my compassion.
reading that post where I've just seen 'closer'
ouch
closer is the movie I credit with being the straw that broke the back of my first marriage (shroooms the second).
it was such a selfish completely cut off narcissistic unaccountable fuckery
so I've got to out myself as
completely deserving
the buzzards are outside my house going round and round.
like I'm some kind of Emily Dickerson.
when really I'm a sparker. and ember which could be heavily edited by AI.
I sort of enjoyed making Andrew happy - or rather it just came to me naturally, but I was done with any emotional lifting.
like I'm a catch.
the most I can hope for is to wizen and be better.
or die trying.
the orange cat is now asleep on my lap.
I'm considering buying all the ecoutrements - a litter box - wet food - toys - and a heating pad to give the lap some rest...
I'm so sorry.
I love you
please forgive me
thank you for loving me
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