(no subject)
photo by yelena yemchuk
my apartment-mate watches horrific true crime stories on the tellie all day & all night. last night i had a dream that my cat was dying, covered in her own menstrual blood in the back-yard of my mother's house in california. she's an extremely rotten baby but i need her to be happy & alive...
facebook is magical for finding beloved high school friends but i am bothered by all the mormon relatives & childhood acquaintances i feel obligated to keep in touch with there. my cousins for instance, are all excellent mormons & fine decent people but i will always feel inhibited by their beady little eyes watching through cyberspace... the problem, of course is that i advocate a lifestyle that completely contradicts their chosen path... i will always, always feel as though every mormon i ever knew is thinking that i need to be fixed, healed, brought back into the fold... because i remember the way we thought about apostates. i remember that they were thought of in a singular context of defectiveness. i wish, wish it wasn't so but they can't tell me otherwise- i remember.