Do you know how it feels to look in a mirror and cower in fear upon viewing your own visage? Even if it makes nonsense, the feeling is real and hits in you the chest so brutally and devastatingly you can’t stand up or raise yourself. Have you seen “Poltergeist?” I see the clown in the closet every minute of every day. I charm those around me. I’m easy to like, but when I’m alone I eat at my entrails– not in a Silence of the Lams away– but, in a “don’t listen to me literally” way. I am a cowardly lion. I am scared of what to expect from my past actions and more terrified by the future. I’m already dis invited from Thanksgiving, what else will go to fucking Hell? Overcoming addiction is not easy. Not one bit. I keep trying and failing to stop ingesting poison. However, I would stop to enjoy a Holiday with my family. That means so much to me. Sucks that it is not happening– although we have a back up or front up if you are feeling sexy time is necessary for us going to the Stroheckers. Last time I was there I was kicked out of the house– yay time. Love the conceptual idea, loathe the end game.
And not to be brazen and brash, but– I am a really sweet person. All I want is to make other people feel better. Better than I feel about myself. I need no commendable medals or words of praise. I get enough from others’ joy. Selfish, maybe? But, these people deserve it. So, whatever. If I think that feeling compassion and an abnormal amount of feelings and emotion for someone is a bad thing– then what is being good?