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and I do sometimes read my writings. for this column, it starts with me talking about my mirror.
now, I can't stand to imagine looking in a mirror besides as defense against the slings and arrows of madmen.
Is orangey ok? once I found out his name was 'jo jo' and he was the neighbor's cat for real - I sort of relinquished him. what a cute name for him too - jo jo. it fits him.
my fingers are still swollen.
the ring is stuck on it. so karmic.
and klio is now inside likely looking for JoJo - who I admit has been with me most mornings but it was cold snowy and rainy so I relented. Klio isn't much of a cuddler or an inside cat. I'll herd her out now.
there.
without cats, living a life. I've enjoyed their company I'll say. I keep forgetting I don't have cats anymore - it's like ghost cats. I thought and felt long and hard about it and even went against the tarot cards that said do it swiftly, but JoJo is not my cat. I look at him and try to love him. Maybe I should take him from the neighbor. It just hit me when I was like "am I going to have to get a cat sitter if I go on vacation - what's going on here narcissi"
haunted youth
I'm still entranced by that clip of MGMT - it reminded me so much of detleff.
all the outside plants are dead.
I recall the night he came over when I was trying to get rid of the sad curtain suitor - or was it directly before - he looked at my collection of cassette tapes and asked who the cultural daredevil who had guns and roses?
"I like the second side of it a lot."
It's weird how you can turn off affection for something that you know is too much trouble and weight for you. (Could this be me to thee)
I could no more take the responsibility of a burden cat right now... now if it were a padz cat or a tortie - but JoJo really adopted me. it was heartbreaking to hear his cries last night - but since I was going to have to let him go - when would be the best time to do it? the sooner the better. that Jane's addiction lyric "we make great pets".
I was so miserable in my youth, but the times I did have fun were knowing I had a friend base who loved me - later I would put it into one single person - the emotional regulator spouse role.
And fun for me - even though I love to absorb and solutude afterwards - is good times with friends talking about the meaning of life. with fire and booze and weed and sure ecstasy and shrooms... and waterside
and my Gott do I love this writing room - such a great view. perfecto - except that my fingers are a bit frozen. I've got my love to keep me warm.
that youth - that possibility. it must be so weird to be a parent of a blooming adult - it would be my favorite age to be a parent to in fact - should have given those abortions up for adoptions probably, but the first one - at 18 - it wasn't even a glimmer of a philosophical maybe - it was a 'get rid of this baby"... the other time, it was more "I can't be tied to this man forever. ". I wept blankets ... and swore I would never do that again.
they probably would have been great and beautiful children. people aren't unfeeling monsters when they get abortion. I told you I got to talk to about 8 of them as we were all IV-ed in hospital gowns. It was amazing the variety in humanity. And I still get intellectually intrigued to what chuck and my spawn would have been - god a red head ! yet I don't think I would have been a great mom - maybe possibly now I could do it - but no regrets and 'you're welcome' children and of course plenty of regrets and if either of you had been born, I would have tried my very best to be better. I know you would have worshipped me whatever, and do I appreciate that ever. Mostly, I see myself putting all the blame on you and martyr'ing it up that I gave up so much when I was changing diapers. instead, I can now recognize that I did nothing during those years - no great art - no great writings - no great songs - no great screenplays - no religion - no wisdom - nothing. yet, had you been in the picture, could I have opened my heart and said in two shakes "you're the best thing that ever happened to me"? one would hope, yet you play you win. you play you lose. you play.
I love that I'm getting over my idealization of Wilmington by going to Athens. but that song 'kids' you can't help but think that college life. in fact, I'm going to watch some reaction videos.
and try to be grateful.
keep reminding myself that I'll always gloss pain and emptiness when I regard my own rear view mirror - AKA I'll fucking romanticize Andrew maybe one day - it's hard to imagine. I mean I don't romanticize my California time at all yet. it felt like an endurance test. I still recall the smell of California when I entered it - flowers.
I wonder if I'll make it. but it does feel great to have times of numbness. I'll never be disdainful of "comfortably numb" again... and I think there's a gardenia bush in this house.
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she lay back on the cheap bed with boring only necessary furniture and neatness. She was 24 and he was the old age of 27. she was intrigued with him because he played in a rock band. that always got her (and very few of them had been in the marching band). she very rarely dated lead singer guitarists preferring the rhythm section. blah blah. afterwards, it was never the same. Making love to someone makes you see who they really are.
she was LIII now and married another him because he was safe and stable. she liked the way he tried during lovemaking and liked his zest. she never liked the tattoo.
and she misses having the stepchildren in her life. she feels she has lived so many. Wandered in and out of universes. Does it pang everyone to want to be an artist. there have been so many gurus and astrologers and psychics who have proclaimed "just need to find your voice"...
It's hard to even converse now. The stepchildren were stability and future. she romanticizes Kent and Wendy's life what with that kid.
Now she sees the consequences of all her choices. pro choice. she can see how this could be a reaction - these choices.
She didn't like his control and his vibe was clammy. She lay on many beds.
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