Whoever wrote that never got caught in a dark corner with him.
So... Turns out I'm not going to see The Dark Knight tomorrow. Tickets ran out. Figures. That's why I never plan on seeing movies opening night. Though I did see Superman Returns the day it opened and it wasn't too bad. That was awesome.
But hey, tomorrow will be awesome anyway. THE SOUTHERN RAIDERS!!! FUCK YEAH!!!
I've been wondering for awhile. At what point will people tell you "don't forgive the bastard"? Whenever I'm reasonably furious with someone who has wronged me, I'm always told (usually but not always by people who have little clue of what I'm going through, BTW) that I must forgive him or I'll be destroying myself. I get that with last guy I was mad at. When I forgave him for making fun of my autistic brother when we were ten, I felt a lot better. We're still no longer friends, I still hate what he did, but I forgave him years later. But the Safeway guy? No one has told me to forgive him, but before I was told that everyone deserves to be forgiven. I've always wondered "even rapists, child molestors, and serial killers?" They would say that it doesn't matter if you think they deserve it or not, forgive them and GTF over it.
Even if they're not sorry.
I'm sorry, but I disagree. In the words of Cosy Sheridan...
I have an uncle, he's a dirty old man. I grew up with a bad cliché
I have learned to find other things to do on family holidays
I have tried to love the sinner and only hate the sin
But whoever wrote that never got caught in a dark corner with him
I keep a baseball bat under my bed and I always leave on a light
The same time each year I get up and check the locks
Sometimes three times at night
And if God helps those who help themselves
Where was God in my formative years
Why give me a voice to call out with and then deafen so many ears?
I have tried to forget his breath,
I have tried to forget his hands
The mechanics don't confuse me like they used to
But I still don't understand
The 9-year-old she was frightened
The 12-year-old learned not to care
Stick a sharp thin knife long into her heart
She could not even feel it was there
And there's a patch of skin between my shoulder blades
That’s still just a little bit numb
It seems to be there to remind me
Of the destruction I have undone
I try to love the sinner but it's more than the sin will allow
I’ve looked a long time into the dark,
Hoping the truth would show me how
I just can't say it more perfectly than she did.
My back pain has been coming back lately. The one related to my assault, psychologically. Aquired under totally different circumstances. In marching band, one of the instructors touched my upper back in order to move me into my spot during a dress. He grabbed my sweater and his finger tapped my back. But for a loooong time, I'd feel a sharp pain in my back when I was triggered. It went away for awhile after my karate teacher taught me that Focusing technique. It seems to be coming back now. Damn.
I REALLY need to stop going to bed after five AM.
But hey, tomorrow will be awesome anyway. THE SOUTHERN RAIDERS!!! FUCK YEAH!!!
I've been wondering for awhile. At what point will people tell you "don't forgive the bastard"? Whenever I'm reasonably furious with someone who has wronged me, I'm always told (usually but not always by people who have little clue of what I'm going through, BTW) that I must forgive him or I'll be destroying myself. I get that with last guy I was mad at. When I forgave him for making fun of my autistic brother when we were ten, I felt a lot better. We're still no longer friends, I still hate what he did, but I forgave him years later. But the Safeway guy? No one has told me to forgive him, but before I was told that everyone deserves to be forgiven. I've always wondered "even rapists, child molestors, and serial killers?" They would say that it doesn't matter if you think they deserve it or not, forgive them and GTF over it.
Even if they're not sorry.
I'm sorry, but I disagree. In the words of Cosy Sheridan...
I have an uncle, he's a dirty old man. I grew up with a bad cliché
I have learned to find other things to do on family holidays
I have tried to love the sinner and only hate the sin
But whoever wrote that never got caught in a dark corner with him
I keep a baseball bat under my bed and I always leave on a light
The same time each year I get up and check the locks
Sometimes three times at night
And if God helps those who help themselves
Where was God in my formative years
Why give me a voice to call out with and then deafen so many ears?
I have tried to forget his breath,
I have tried to forget his hands
The mechanics don't confuse me like they used to
But I still don't understand
The 9-year-old she was frightened
The 12-year-old learned not to care
Stick a sharp thin knife long into her heart
She could not even feel it was there
And there's a patch of skin between my shoulder blades
That’s still just a little bit numb
It seems to be there to remind me
Of the destruction I have undone
I try to love the sinner but it's more than the sin will allow
I’ve looked a long time into the dark,
Hoping the truth would show me how
I just can't say it more perfectly than she did.
My back pain has been coming back lately. The one related to my assault, psychologically. Aquired under totally different circumstances. In marching band, one of the instructors touched my upper back in order to move me into my spot during a dress. He grabbed my sweater and his finger tapped my back. But for a loooong time, I'd feel a sharp pain in my back when I was triggered. It went away for awhile after my karate teacher taught me that Focusing technique. It seems to be coming back now. Damn.
I REALLY need to stop going to bed after five AM.