Mazdas, Mazdas everywhere
Ah yes. Another afternoon at Quiet Storm. There are definitely worse things. And anyway, Matthu was making noises yesterday about letting me read an old project of his, so I'm hoping he brings it with him today. I'm quite curious to see what his writing is like.
The pool was crappy (a dozen screaming kids; I got out when they accidentally held me under water). The doctor was crappy (more on that later ... maybe). And I started the day with an email that was either reassuring or else a big ol' kiss off ... but then I had kind of a respite of a lunch ... reminded myself that I didn't want to play this stupid game anymore ... that that was the fucking point. I always had to be right. I don't need to be right anymore. Nobody is "right." None of this is "right." And once I lose the need to be right, then I stop fighting. It was a nice realization. Letting go of the need to be right means that I'm not fighting anymore.
And then I did some stuff at Kinko's for anarqueso and antiochwhore.
Oh wow ... Peezy's here ... I didn't see him when I first came in. I'll have to go and say hi.
And I may as well open up Pandora's Box as long as I'm here:
Does everyone learn their patterns of love and comfort from whatever the most fucked up thing about their childhood was? My brother feels most comfortable when he's around the sick & the dying. I, apparently, will always choose to boil myself in a giant pot of crazy.
Man, I want a cigarette.
The pool was crappy (a dozen screaming kids; I got out when they accidentally held me under water). The doctor was crappy (more on that later ... maybe). And I started the day with an email that was either reassuring or else a big ol' kiss off ... but then I had kind of a respite of a lunch ... reminded myself that I didn't want to play this stupid game anymore ... that that was the fucking point. I always had to be right. I don't need to be right anymore. Nobody is "right." None of this is "right." And once I lose the need to be right, then I stop fighting. It was a nice realization. Letting go of the need to be right means that I'm not fighting anymore.
And then I did some stuff at Kinko's for anarqueso and antiochwhore.
Oh wow ... Peezy's here ... I didn't see him when I first came in. I'll have to go and say hi.
And I may as well open up Pandora's Box as long as I'm here:
Does everyone learn their patterns of love and comfort from whatever the most fucked up thing about their childhood was? My brother feels most comfortable when he's around the sick & the dying. I, apparently, will always choose to boil myself in a giant pot of crazy.
Man, I want a cigarette.