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Holee crap was that ever good. I'm still reeling. Okay, how's this... ‘Let it be the goal of all women to make me fall in their own particular fashion... and watch infinity unfold in the myriad stories born thereof... for I am.' - A CRAZY THING TO SAY... but an amazing thing as well. Don't tell me this is not the key to alternate dimensions, to other worlds. Perhaps divine, perhaps demonic, perhaps both... always both... and in the balance, illumination. And my parents refuse to see. Sigh. Won't somebody please see? Should I be bothered with May?
So if 100 Words has just topped one million words, is there any need for my silly contribution? Throes of Dawn, ‘Dreams of the Black Earth...' too many reminders. But she is gone. And you toy with me. Liken me to a child chasing butterflies. My net is rent. And if I stink, why bother to post? Why waste anybody's time? Hay, are you listening to me? Has my past sent you screaming? H8r... LC... who are you? Change me if you must, only please release me from this insane tangle. Paris, Singapore, Nebraska, wherever... you can make the rules.
SICK. Muscles aching, fatigue, lethargy, weakness, depression, tremors, profuse sweating, simultaneous chills, bloating, nausea, nearly vomiting, dizziness, clenched teeth, convulsions, fits, brain spasms... nearly blackouts... like eyelids fluttering only the whole perception strobes and wobbles... Emotionally overwrought... intense crying jags bring headaches... my heart ready to rip through my chest... crushing headaches bring more tears... And to top it all off (and this is beautiful) arrhythmia... tachycardia... the return of Wolff Parkinson White Syndrome? Not surprising. Put a heart under this much strain and watch as it erodes and does violence to itself. Paxil addiction and withdrawal? Never ever again.
So all this time you've been fucking him? Right next door? How do you think this makes me feel? How strong do you think I am? Babylon, Mystery Whore... lies, lies, all of it lies. Who, now, is the master race? Who, now, holds all the cards? Now which race will destroy what portion of mankind in an insane cabal to promote it's own racist ambition? All built on corruption and the very opposite of the principles it claims to uphold. The Beast and the Lamb are one. There is no truth. The end is near. Revelation is at hand.
ROTH METAL RADIO RULES! You are making me feel better... energy building... Hateful medication... this is like coming down from LSD only FAR WORSE... strychnine lockjaw, teeth grinding, supremely spaced out, physically drained, emotionally overwrought, shivering, sweating, exhausted. Burnt out... what an astute remark since the nervous system is literally fried by the medication. My body doesn't know what the fuck it feels... shaking, one minute freezing, breaking instantaneously into a localized sweat... there's no control whatsoever. How long does it take to grow a new central nervous system? One day, somebody will pay dearly for my suffering, I promise.
You... she... whoever... is back. In the name of FUCK, what is going on? The night went mad... winds and things slamming against the house... and when I crept downstairs with my stick in hand... what did I see? What did I hallucinate? Was it real? Did I really see pale, thin legs? I fled to my room... locked the door... my head spinning, my body wracked and shuddering... No more, please... I am not strong enough to bear it. Save me, please, my wife, wherever and whoever you are... my heart is weak, my mind tormented... PLEASE HELP ME!!!
Snail mail... slug mail... worm mail... oh, refused entry to Community College nursing program, lacking the necessary qualifications, six months after applying? NO SHIT. Oh, Government of Canada insists I owe it several thousand dollars beyond the six thousand it already took? Take your money. Let it be done. Tomorrow morning get me to the bank to finish your rape. Oh, approved for Employment Assistance fifteen week sick claim? What great snare will this become? How do I mistrust thee? Let me count the ways. How I love this land... what grave shame to see it so pillaged and corrupted.
Let me join her... she would understand... falsely accused, scorned, despised, cast out, so alone, so broken... all she needed was for somebody to believe in her, to show her a little love... she might have bloomed, found new life, some reason to go on. Sometimes a rose needs care lest it be strangled by weeds. But they closed their hearts, left her to die in her loneliness. She never had a chance. How must she have felt that day when she closed her eyes for the last time? Who did she think of as she died? Did anyone grieve?
A trickle of memories or more madness? Natasha... was it you at the Dome? You at Second Cup? Halle Berry? Abused and mistrustful of men? Oh, can you ever forgive me? Probably not, nor do I deserve it. Only please believe that I never meant to hurt you... if only I had realized sooner... I'd gladly have given you everything at once. But here I have been giving away bit by bit, searching everywhere for love, gambling on long-shots. Rebirth indeed... into greater agony only. Be happy? Like myself? How could I ever? How many times have I failed you?
Oh... I must have an ulcer. I haven't felt this consistently bad in years. Sweating, rash, extreme stomach and back pain, SO tired. I just want rest but it comes when it wants to. LC is all alone... what am I supposed to do about it? What would such an amazing woman want with me? And I read Ann Landers giving advice on how to deal with a husband who won't do anything... who has been depressed for most of his adult life... she says it's too bad this girl didn't know beforehand so she could have avoided him... THANKS.
I really must get up and go out and get some exercise and some air. But it hurts even to be vertical. My spine is fucked. Maybe I'll be eligible for medical marijuana use at least. Not worth the pain though... no indeed. Sigh. Being made fun of is so tiresome. My cheeks are so sore. Fuck. I have nothing to say. Except maybe this... I had better not detect even the faintest sound of pipes playing or I guarantee YOU will be paying the piper while I dance a fucking jig. And you will not be given a choice.
No matter what happens, no matter how far I descend, no matter how awful things become, I love you. I'll forgive you everything and anything. Please understand that in the face of continued misery and without the light of hope or forgiveness, descent is a very real possibility. Please understand that any words I have spoken or written were uttered in the darkness of the void where no light penetrates. Not to say that there is now light... for light may also be an illusion. I suspect many things but know nothing for certain. I only know I miss you.
Sigh. So suddenly, now that I'm broke, here are all these great environment/ecology websites appearing. All these ways to save a little piece of the earth... and only now am I finding these sites. Why now? Anyway, reading Angelina Jolie's journals from Cambodia and Pakistan was making me cry and the world was seeming like a nice place again but then it was suggested to me that this, too, might all be a lie and why bother waking up each day if you can't trust a soul in the world? I want to trust you... but how can I possibly?
Breach of Trust... yeah! Nobody is getting near me. Criticize my love of dark imagery and tragedy, I understand. It's not to most people's taste. But don't ever expect me to lose sight of it because it is as beautiful and as much the truth as your grand facade. Beauty in darkness... darkness in beauty. Wrap lies and corruption in law and social order or mask the truth in horror. It is the way of things. Only be aware... watch... and be the line that separates. The oroborous... the snake swallows its tail to divide the inner from the outer.
The snake can let go of its tail... the cabal is broken... the deception ends. There is only a great unity... the void... and the creative impulse... the serpent... the line which assumes many forms. All creativity is spawned from the lie... an attempt to hide, to avoid, to evade. The trickster... Strict obedience is static. Only through the exercise of will can there be action. The decision to disobey is the beginning of man's inheritance as co-creator. Then, maybe I'm just talking so much shit off the top of my head. But we did see a fox Thursday night....
The Fisher King... my life is a movie. No going back. All bridges burned (not Jeff though). Yeah, I might always love you... but nope. Spurn me once and watch all interest dry up. Arrogance? Storming out like some little diva? Just tired of being second best, second choice, runner up, bridesmaid and mercyfuck. Change your hair, skin tone, makeup, clothes, job, social station, friends... accessorize... or simplify. What are you trying to prove. That I'm a moron? That story made headlines years ago. Concentrated... washes more dishes... whatever. There is not one of you who will not deny me.
I suppose Judas was the most faithful servant of all. And the scribes. But what can you say about the twins? Twins can pull off just about anything. Really, they should be watched very carefully. The world could be destroyed by the twins. It has been changed before... The Books... the most unabashedly racist tracts in the history of man. Chosen people. Oh really? Not one good Gentile. Oh really? Death to infidels. Oh really? Shouldn't such racist, hate literature be banned? No? Then it must be acceptable to print, read and distribute ANYTHING. No? Because YOUR book forbids it?
Hypocrisy. The battle between the forces of light and darkness is fought in the soul of every man and woman. Only in sacrifice is freedom to be achieved. The ego, thus annihilated, makes room for the dawning consciousness. The christ is born through suffering as the stubborn ego clings to its throne, throwing up every manner of defence tactic to save itself from being consumed in the lake of fire of its own humiliation. The greater the past sin and error, the greater the fire and torment. The process, once begun, must be finished, or better never to have begun.
It would be really nice to have a sense of humor about all of this but that would entail you letting me in on everything and you obviously aren't in any rush to do that. Friends? Where? Who? (Cue tumbleweeds...) Fuck. Yeah, lots of nicey nice fuckers pretending to be who they're not. There's only one woman in the world? With countless faces, countless names? Fuck that. Play me like a baby grand will you? I've thrown away my life for you. My health is ruined. What more do you want? Do you need blood? Do you want me dead?
This is getting to be a bit much. Finally fall asleep sometime after two, wake yourself up screaming in terror shortly after three. What was so horrifying? Who can really say? Just a sense of things being very, very wrong... out of balance. There's nowhere to run, no place to hide from yourself. So it occurs to me that maybe it wouldn't have been so bad if there had been somebody there to console me... just a comforting touch or word... But there's nobody there except my parents, too close in this small house and I feel like a prisoner.
I don't remember feeling this sick for a very long time. Everything hurts. I'm snapping my parents' heads off (nothing new there). The I.R.S. had better not cause any shit to these girls who have been getting gifts... gifts are gifts. I feel love, I want to give. Keep your greedy fucking hands out of the cookie jar. I'm not buying gifts for you, uncle sam. You touch one cent of those gifts and I'll sue your ass. Well, I should sue your ass... if I wasn't so weak and tired and sick. I'll never sue anyone. Money isn't love.
My rent check is good until Monday but Sharon has already moved her stuff into my room... furniture, clothing, everything. So it's like staying at a stranger's house. I don't really care but it's a little insulting. So for my last night SNL wasn't great but LOUD played Morbid Angel so I'm satisfied. An email from James Murphy? I'd really like to believe I'm not being fooled but, well... once bitten and all that shit... but it's a really nice thought and it breaks my heart to think of him ill... everybody please send him love and kind, healing thoughts.
What will I do without Digby? All those times when I was sad and lonely, he was there for me. He made me smile and laugh when everything was coming apart. I'll really miss him. My Neopets are sweet but not quite the same. Sigh. All my life has been love seeking, getting slapped down like an unruly pup. I remember seeing this wrenching movie as a child. It hurts to think of it even to this day. A mute boy finally speaks up for love of a pony. ‘My pony...' he cries. His pony has become mired in quicksand.
I went for a walk. How beautiful to hear birds singing, frogs croaking, bees buzzing by. Four yellow butterflies congregated in a huddle on the path, as if exchanging news, whispering. The sound of waves lapping the lake shore was blissful until ruined by the presence of man. I left in a snarl. Signs seemed to present themselves along the path... a shining stone draws my attention to the ground... next a rectangular stone... then a rectangular block of wood northwest of the stone... then a circular stone... then beautiful white quartz... and finally some shining, airy, silken, skin-like substance....
Well, I've sort of told off Michael. I don't believe it is really him anyway. Nobody can be trusted, online or off. I have suspicions that he is Zina. I have suspicions that my life has been on display for the past year. If so, who should die first? Whatever. Big Red am I? Something good had better come of all this. My mom is trying to get power of attorney over me (now that there is five cents in my bank account) and is making plans to have me hospitalized. Everything is coming up black roses and white walls.
Why are you crying? Why are you in big trouble? What is wrong? I want so much to help you... it hurts to see you sad. But how can I possibly believe now? Those photos could be months old. And you are not who you claim to be. Everything is a lie. Somebody said you should be an actress. How can I trust you even if I really want to? Thousands of faces wielded by the same mind. The sad thing is that I could love you if I could believe in you. Neither image nor word can be trusted.
I didn't ask for anything from you. I didn't ask for thanks or for photos or for love or whatever. All I hoped for was to be forgiven. You don't ask for anything from me... not money, not gifts, nothing. But you judge. And that is a heavier price than any gift or donation could ever be. The poor are an opportunity. You are proud. You will not beg. Nor will I. But in judging us all you take. Better to throw money at the thankless than to be judged by the heartless. Money is useless to a condemned man.
The songs of the birds seemed to be words... sentences. The tone of a word has as much meaning as the word itself. A falling tone is friendly, relaxed. A rising tone denotes caution or unease... the sound of fear. A flat tone is noncommittal. Rising falling shows interest. Falling rising shows concern. This is all conjecture and wild guessing, of course. Is this the way with all animal language? Do they communicate by tone? So much of human language has lost contact with its origins. How I hate its/it's... needless confusion... stupid, idiotic language... myriad ways of communicating nothing.
I really look forward to laughing at all this someday, somehow. It's too much to bear now... the fog is heavy, though sometimes it clears for a moment and I break into a huge smile and roar at some of the things that may be directed at me. If they are not, I must truly be insane, but if they are, what a wonderful world! Oh, for that world to be real... oh for it to be just a lot of fun... how it could change things. But it would necessitate being told what was going on which hasn't happened.
Beginning to feel very much afraid and insecure... wanting very much to trust somebody but convinced this is all a big joke being played on me by the universe. Speaking of jokes, why isn't the United Nations all over China about Tibet? Yes, it is an area of strategic importance but why can it not be left in the hands of a benign, neutral state, beloved by all the world for the goodness of its people, protected by all the world because of its benign nature? The world must police injustice... with an iron fist. CHINA, GET OUT OF TIBET.
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