work on a wednesday
it is not wednesday.
so tired this morning. woke up next to a sleepy boy. so sweet.
clothes... smoke a jack... drive to work... fall asleep for an hour here, half an hour there. still very groggy. a lady came in today. she had a lot to say. she said she's going to nueter a cat on thursday, well, she's taking him to a doc i mean. her 19-yr-old cat died recently. her horse died in may. i thought at that point i should tell her about lucy.
she left. good day miss.
and i sat in my armless chair holding a small vial of ashes and i cried for a while. i was thinking about her before the lady came in. feeling like a murderer. remembering what the animal psychic said.
'she thinks you want to get rid of her.'
that really pains me. i feel like a terrible terrible person. won't go into the details now, i think i did a while ago in some journal. i know i did. but the hurt doesn't get softer or easier.
i don't think about how happy she could be up in doggy heaven because i can't prove it or rely on it. but i was picturing her up in the sky chasing birds through giant clouds, charging out of them with a whisp curling around her tail, barking loudly and happily. lucy in the sky with diamonds. i hope that's where she is. the stars are all dead, but so are the ones we look to heavens for, so maybe she resides in a dead star. eternal diamond of the galaxy. i miss her. happy face. but i miss her when she had her legs working, i cry for her when she had to drag herself around. we never wanted to get rid of you.
we loved you so much and we always will.
too much death to my friends. too many lives snuffed out too early. i hate kowing i helped kill her. it was my choice. one day i know i will forgive myself but for now i just can't. i canot imagine being alright with this. i want to write about it because if i cry, maybe i'll feel some resolve, my eyes are wincing and feeling heavy again. i feel sick and grotesque again. i feel hatred and torment, guilt eats me wastes me. i remember putting her down, i put part of myself down too, burnt it to ashes and can't seem to connect our death with a vial of dust. seems wrong, fucked up. i don't want to know about anyones experience, how it wasnt that bad or how it was terrible or how it is over and something better has come. i dont believe in going on, not for now. i have to grieve until i feel i've suffered enough.
how do you suffer for the death, the murder, the theft of ones life. how do you cope? i dont want advice because i will not take it. i could go back to the pet psychic but i dont believe her. all i know if the sensory memory of touching her furr and giving her big hugs. watching her play and eat and sleep and then seeing her decay, and break down and drag herself against the cement with bleeing paws. i was not there for her, so shall i never be. or for anyone else, now i know this. i always used to fantasixe of something so tragic like haing a loved one die in my arms, i felt like i wanted or deserved that pain. i dont know if i do now. she slipped away in my arms and went lifeless before my eyes. i cant go on thinking about it like this, butif i forget i have betrayed my best friend. before anyone in CA she was my girl, and in DC i barely had anyone there. just her and my dog forrest. she was a special girl. not like any other dog. i never saw her as a dog anyway. she was my sister and my companion. she was innocent in ways ill never know or be, and it was vital to have a friend like that. and i killed her. i let her go and now she's gone. i want to leave this place and all that i know. i want to live off the land as a bum or a nomad. as anyone but who i am.
so tired this morning. woke up next to a sleepy boy. so sweet.
clothes... smoke a jack... drive to work... fall asleep for an hour here, half an hour there. still very groggy. a lady came in today. she had a lot to say. she said she's going to nueter a cat on thursday, well, she's taking him to a doc i mean. her 19-yr-old cat died recently. her horse died in may. i thought at that point i should tell her about lucy.
she left. good day miss.
and i sat in my armless chair holding a small vial of ashes and i cried for a while. i was thinking about her before the lady came in. feeling like a murderer. remembering what the animal psychic said.
'she thinks you want to get rid of her.'
that really pains me. i feel like a terrible terrible person. won't go into the details now, i think i did a while ago in some journal. i know i did. but the hurt doesn't get softer or easier.
i don't think about how happy she could be up in doggy heaven because i can't prove it or rely on it. but i was picturing her up in the sky chasing birds through giant clouds, charging out of them with a whisp curling around her tail, barking loudly and happily. lucy in the sky with diamonds. i hope that's where she is. the stars are all dead, but so are the ones we look to heavens for, so maybe she resides in a dead star. eternal diamond of the galaxy. i miss her. happy face. but i miss her when she had her legs working, i cry for her when she had to drag herself around. we never wanted to get rid of you.
we loved you so much and we always will.
too much death to my friends. too many lives snuffed out too early. i hate kowing i helped kill her. it was my choice. one day i know i will forgive myself but for now i just can't. i canot imagine being alright with this. i want to write about it because if i cry, maybe i'll feel some resolve, my eyes are wincing and feeling heavy again. i feel sick and grotesque again. i feel hatred and torment, guilt eats me wastes me. i remember putting her down, i put part of myself down too, burnt it to ashes and can't seem to connect our death with a vial of dust. seems wrong, fucked up. i don't want to know about anyones experience, how it wasnt that bad or how it was terrible or how it is over and something better has come. i dont believe in going on, not for now. i have to grieve until i feel i've suffered enough.
how do you suffer for the death, the murder, the theft of ones life. how do you cope? i dont want advice because i will not take it. i could go back to the pet psychic but i dont believe her. all i know if the sensory memory of touching her furr and giving her big hugs. watching her play and eat and sleep and then seeing her decay, and break down and drag herself against the cement with bleeing paws. i was not there for her, so shall i never be. or for anyone else, now i know this. i always used to fantasixe of something so tragic like haing a loved one die in my arms, i felt like i wanted or deserved that pain. i dont know if i do now. she slipped away in my arms and went lifeless before my eyes. i cant go on thinking about it like this, butif i forget i have betrayed my best friend. before anyone in CA she was my girl, and in DC i barely had anyone there. just her and my dog forrest. she was a special girl. not like any other dog. i never saw her as a dog anyway. she was my sister and my companion. she was innocent in ways ill never know or be, and it was vital to have a friend like that. and i killed her. i let her go and now she's gone. i want to leave this place and all that i know. i want to live off the land as a bum or a nomad. as anyone but who i am.