You shuffle from room to room, after starting at the reception desk, eyes downcast, explaining why exactly you're here because it's a filthy secret that is made more real when you loose the words into the air.

It's bad enough to let them go over the relative anonymity of soundwaves, a cellophane voice told you "we can get you an appointment three ( Read more... )

When I am prey in the woods, I will sense you coming after me.

Because that is the way of things, when I am stalked through the underbrush. When I can feel eyes on me and it doesn't matter how often I stop and search every dappled shadow, I still don't see anything. And yet I hear the echo of every step I take, even though everyone knows there is no ( Read more... )

I swung on this pendulum for many years.

I must repair myself or no one will want me.

The right Him will guide me, fix me.

How can I look outside of myself for direction?

For awhile, I came to a tentative agreement with the idea that some mystical male would guide me, correct me, complete me, fix me. A lot of us think that, right? Maybe more so in this ( Read more... )

He destroyed me, he created me - all in a single sun-drenched autumn afternoon, all without laying a finger on me.

It's odd and rare anymore to have these moments of deep, inexplicable sadness, when tears rise for no reason at all.

Last night, I dreamt you were back in CA.  The ocean was close, and I dreamt of the same nonexistent beachside structures I've dreamt of before.

Isn't that odd, how one's brain concocts these places that don't truly exist and revisit them in dreams year after year?

You were reading Thoreau.  Why on earth were you reading Thoreau in my dream??   

I went to a funeral this morning, a funeral for a coworker.   He was 47 years old and left behind a family of five children after battling different iterations of cancer for years.  His youngest daughter, no more than 11, sang a song in a thin, whispery voice that sent tears down my face.  Her's too, as evidenced by the red rimmed eyes.  Funerals ( Read more... )

S. tells me yesterday that he is bipolar.  I only believe this partially; I diagnosed him as narcissistic months and months ago.  I don't see any of the tells of bipolar.  Narcissistic personality tiptoeing along OCD ( Read more... )

....but here's an excerpt...

VTokesh: <shrug>

VTokesh: Then we should all be quite happy with our
situation, yes? :)

MaliceBliss: Or Adjusted so to speak.

MaliceBliss: I'm still having a hard time trying to 'swallow'
'settling' Because the elitist in me doesn't want to yet.

MaliceBliss: Well. I suppose Id better get to doing things ( Read more... )

A random Google on an ex turns up an obituary.

Your stomach jerks oddly at that news.

Regardless of the slaps and pushes, the bloodstains and tears, there was love, twisted as though it sounds.

That's the SECOND of my ex's that are dead.