The End

Hit Her

A girl chooses chock.

Home is a pest.


Men good when barter


Mick is cruel.



Okay, my friend Warren from graduate school is a Harvard professor.

He theorizes about religion and secularization in relation to Marx.

Sounds like a part(y)

Interesting?

I can be helped, I just don't like creasts.

Maybe that's all







Hope

Heifer cries for drugs.

Bother Why

Feelings

A no one says, "Julia."

I like to rest.

Me sock

Take it; feel.

A shock is helpful.



A park resembles Baby.




Calm, feminine, baby.




I guess too much is too much.





Members feel a true pride in hustling.
Me cry for heifer.




Straw is type; girl, like home.



My feelings of inadequacy have led to self-abuse.

It's home.





Pint of freedom.

Julia typed argot.


Maybe I will choose my friends to be free.




That's goddess.



Perhas life knows good and passion.







Taste fried prawns.





I she mustard.



Bones like Will.




Treat me like I'm Julia



Maybe I shave mess.



Happy?




College cries chock.






I poke.




Foam.



Teach lesson And love


Okay, I wrote.

Also, I made people treat me like I was home.


Mothers are poem


A him to stack.



Fuck.


A nether poem.


And

A woman, a man, a gender

Creating followers.

Being here is money

And that's prostitution.


I choose loving forks.

Women do what me.

Anger likes nothing.

I like babies.

They are good.

I need to be cunt.

Maybe that's why I felt changed.

Start liking a homosexual.

Friends continue to love; goddesses are her; Julia can hope.

I can do better.

Hustling conned mother.

I can fence.

Maybe love changes life.

Fame is heifer.

Pain does not make good things.

I am feeling a little happier.

I know what it is: It's being pecked.

There's a lot to like about my life.

Senses
Freedom
Being here.


I'm glad that you have been a moose.

I feel like a Pagan.

Now I have to start.

Anger has
No reward

Giving's life
No more strife







.

Sexuality

I changed

it hurts

The Shire was my own

Stiff, afraid

Weird

I loved it

Men don't trust me

It's better that way

Blimey

I can hit people, and then it hurts, but I don't like it.

Possibilities



I want you to hold me.

I loved it.








Mothers are dark



No one part/side can/must have the initiative.

I like myself

I share what I am by listening



My best to you

I listen/I teach/I love

I liked chasing pain

Because it worked


I listen to you because you want it.



Doing is not money
That makes me a bitch



I need you to listen to.



Peach, Pear, Par.


A park of woman











That's mothers mess.

A fare is changed.






I'll dust it off

And girl.



No need to do it: just find.


I feel better (again)


If you want to know , I'm okay.



Yours,

c*

sureties

And now for the main acts of the show.

"Love" or a facsimile of it is often an ingredient in the tricking or "persuasion" of others to act in such a way that pleases someone else.

Being here in Southern AZ has highlighted for me changes that I thought gave me hope.

I knew that staying here would make me less inclined to like myself.

There's no straw, no tribe, no entity, no lovers, no creation that makes me know how to

--

I don't like people when I feel like I'm --

under pressure to feel happy.

There's only two ways to know what goes on. One is to live, the other is to break.

I preferred to live; however, breaking (others or objects or conventions or relationships, etc. etc.) leads to trying to make strength only the way that I like.


Plays on friendship.

It's been done.


cstar is the way for me to hate without understanding how to know that is wrong.

So I have to stop.

Creation

My own people -- you -- teach me that I can't like only friends who are happy and friendly.

I do like me.

cstar (Julia/brigidjoy) types this sentence to say decency preaches, life answers with charges.

I am targeting anyone who prefers to like home rather than pain.

That's not good.

Sharing anger is not good either.

Nothing but change is free.

I make life worse because there's no sex, no crying, no father.

I asked to be my father's target.

I need to make happiness like feelings.

Some people including DOD (Dear Old Dad) didn't apparently need feelings to be happy.

I'm not good at making change by giving.

I loved him, but he wanted a man.

Why revisit this nauseating painful aspect of my life?

Because only this can change what makes my sexuality painful.

You make me act like I am painful.

I'm acting because I need to live.

I prefer to make you my pests/prisoners/ kind interlocutors.

I would like you to understand that only I say woman can live as friend.

I just can't pay.

Cute.

It's better to like what you are.

I'm charging because I need to give my presence a name.

I'm Julia.
I like to understand.

Goddesses.

It's better to begin with fairness.

It's better to hope that my mother is a woman.

I like that.

I do change.

It's been too long since I have.

What is changing?

I paid people to be my friends.

I'M a nothing trying to give strength so I can be a feeling.

But being a woman is not a feeling.

blowjobs make me feel like I'm a client.

I prefer to make love, not pay cocksuckers to be happy.

My life is fucked.

Adios

Julia Brigid Murray

Today

Today I woke up at 2:00 a.m. (having gone to bed about 7:30 p.m.) and had a cup of coffee, guaranteeing that I would stay awake.

I really don't remember most of what was going through my mind, but it seemed vastly important and pivotal, at least to me, as usual. I think I watched CNN.

I know I started doing laundry about 5:00 in the morning.

Then about 7:00 I woke my mother so I could go for a walk (which I try to do twice a day -- 20 minutes). I went to the circle k convenience store and bought some coffee and some aspirin in case of cardiovascular breakage. The woman there asked me if I wanted "something else" referring to the fact that yesterday I bought a shot of E&J early. I decided not to have anything else. Yay!

I walked home, as usual consciously wondering how to conduct myself in public view. How were drivers reacting to me as they saw me. Other questions went around and around also.

By the time I returned home I was exhausted.

I did some television watching of the weather channel and Good Morning America off and on with my mother. I frequently checked my mail and wrote some emotional things to RW.

As the day went on, my mother and I got ready for her to take me to the pharmacy, where I was to pick up a new medication and a refill of an old one. The woman at the counter gave us two hours to wait, so we went to Radio Shack then Wal-mart where I bought a new phone having lost the charger to my old one, also a dress, also a soda for me and lunch for my mother.

By the time we got the drugs and returned home it was a quarter past two.

The dress looked good.

I had planned to wear it tonight to a mentally ill group but I didn't though I had promised someone I would be there. That's from a combination of impending rain and a spicy soup I ate that somehow changed my mood.

I've been having some chest twinges on and off since about 4:00. It's now about 6:30.

I've taken my last Ativan.

Tomorrow I begin generic Klonopin.

My roommate in the state hospital used to take Klonopin. She used to write down the name with the feminist fist sign replacing the "o"s . I hear she was there at least two years after I left. She was a really strong feminist, loved Bob Dylan, but was very demanding of energy from others. Sounds a little like my self-idealization with certain real-world modifications.

Antonia called, hasn't called back. Hmm.

Also spoke to John Walde from catskill. He may need intravenous iron. I also told him about Calvin, whom I believe may be dying.

Seems to be going around?

I'm really glad my mother and I are able to spend time together. I've managed to curb my often incredible degree of irritation at her fastidiousness. I hope I am able to maintain a relationship with her for a while.

There's reading to do, but I may just lie down.

See, I can write of the daily round.

Love to all,

c*mare a/k/a brigidjoy a/k/a you know.

A fresh look

Don't analyze. That's what most people say.

So I won't.

Making love stronger than crack is some kind of work.

Tensions go around, and come back.

A friend who likes me is doing what she likes.

And you are strong and I like it.

My myths:

Equation zero (me: see, I do depersonalize myself) resulted from feelings that I wanted to make into time.

If you were me right now, you would be feeling the harshness that I direct at myself when writing. I still feel somehow that the only way to be strong, productive, accurate and creative is to force it.

This is something that I learned (or at least reinforced) in college, thank you very much. (In order to mold myself into being more like the image of themselves "my betters" projected.)

The only answers that I have for this unfortunate tendency are techniques which I learned post-college, in counseling and by contact with such very smart people as my readers. I believe, however, that only by knowing where I was emotionally long before the times I learned to be intellectually harsh may I somehow escape this torturing pit.

Feelings I had when very young.

I didn't know that my own parents could live with the feelings of fear and anger that they felt toward the powers that be (a question).

Simply put, I was not the one who made my life the way it is at that time.

It's okay.

Teasing me is not great.

Feeling happy was good.

I wanted life. I wanted good. I wanted happiness.

Change was feared. I know that. I know that the future appeared unfathomable.

Let it be.

A fearful and weak person can not shed happiness on themselves.

Maybe that's what I saw in my mother. Maybe that's what my father saw in me.

I reject being afraid.

Now I like pain.

It's the only way to sense that change is feelings.

(For me).

I cannot even honor my own happiness with pain.

She (the Goddess) needs the ways of people to include love.

I'm happy, but I'm not God, just like the powers that be.

Being protected by the government, I can only reiterate that feelings of change make me hopeful.

Someone needed to love. (That's where I came in.)

And that's good.

Fierce is making change into fear.

I wanted to make life intolerable to people representing change to me because I wanted them to feel the way I surmised I would feel having to accept change.

It's okay, but there's got to be friendship.

Let it be.

Okay, I'm trying to like myself. I know you are feeling like there's something else.

You're right.

I like creating femininity. Even where it may not have previously been.

Even if the results are not good.

And I refuse to pretend that I'm a cop.

I prefer life to crack.

I wanted love.

I hoped that maybe if I made myself feel better that somehow I would love.

That doesn't work for me now , then or in the future.

In other words, I shit on life because I love happiness.

So, there's only pain.

I have to let go.

People do like life.

I just liked a way that was weirder and worse.

Thank you for reading through this concatenation of farcical thoughts.

A bitch.

Overrot

American Love

Simply be calm, your turn is next
A camera's here, video with text

Be long for this world, you must see
Feelings that make love, pay not thee

Clean as a codpiece, strength is pure
Kind as a father, the sun's the lure

With every last stand, changes go broke
I'm very alone, for my divinity's coke

Trample the old and lock up the zoo
America's love plays bagpipes for you.



I'm going to stop writing ten times a day, be more selective that sort of thing.

A relief for you and me

I've got rights

I thought/think I'm President.


That's the I.


Proactively Prosaically Yours,


c*

Oh, God, I've got to take a (big) shit!

But instead I will continue publishing my every thought no matter how bored you or I may be.

I don't like it when people think of me as "crazy."

I'm not crazy.

I was just given to loving daddy over myself.

And now?

Pagans like me.

I need to love it.

How r u?

Live.

Blessed Be,

c*mare

Money doesn't make me feel sexy, it makes me feel like I make people poems.

Tension is boring.

Preliminaries over

Julia's depression

My mother paid Julia to like men
I know she needs me for frightened face

Anew there's good where my mother made good
Since I trod here, my friends (good) are prostitutes

Men see the failure of a rock-bad lover
I feel the life and it wants my share.

Change

I write about bullies so I don't feel like one.

Yours,

c*

Gossipy, Judgmental, Fierce

A few words to the wise.

I have long attempted to make myself an example of a non-destructive way to approach the world. Unfortunately that attempt has resulted in my being apparently opaque, unreachable, distant, overbearing and noxious. People make this clear to me by their reactions to me.

How did this happen. Well, I thought that it was better to keep anger within and to restrain oneself rather than attempt to get one's way through perhaps more honest and healthy tactics of dominating others through guile, violence, aggressive words and actions. I thought that independence and autonomy meant controlling oneself. Now, it is clear that not only was I naive, I was leaving myself open to acting precisely the way I was trying to avoid, that my aggressions would find a back door. And they have.

It's better to acknowledge one's errors, mistakes, misjudgments and flaws.

I will not blame myself for my life, however, for if one looks closer, one will find that given the models I've had, the isolation I've faced, and the aggression that has been directed at me, it is not surprising that I've attempted to hide my "true face" from others for fear of being hurt. Now I will say that people have attempted for years to get me to be "out" as a personality and not just as a "gender" person. That is true. However, those people have at times also been bullies and certainly at least on the surface have talked about others behind their back, elicited negative comments, etc.

I have no doubt that it is better for me that I not pursue the course that I've pursued because apparently the only person I'm damaging is me.

I AM STRONG. I AM HAPPY. I AM PRESENT.

I promise not to make any more comments that adversely portray other peoople or myself.

I fucked up.

Yours,

c*mare

Upon a scrabble playing goddess

Crime cheats.
Dying.

Ask how feelings do what they are?

Ask how money treats people.

Is there a resemblance?

I don't think so.

I create feelings but they're not mine.

And I hope you love me.



On a lighter note, Hercule Poirot by David Suchet on PBS is quite entertaining.

The only artist that understands this answer is fat.

I'm glad you've liked my selection.

Seize with passion.

I like kissing ass

Today is the day that bend over and give myself a big slurpie one.

I have a large ego.

I feel strange.

Goddess is wily.

Girl, I've been making me stubborn.

I love you.

Thanks, AC.

I want a girl (please be free)

I feel a little annoyed about typing. It seems that as I try to empty out my consciousness that I become more and more broken and attached to brokenness.

Nice to have love.

Nice to know that I'm interested, as key of falling, in time, in change, and in kisses.

I do not know calm.

Fuck, it's life that makes stars, not feelings of being truthful.

And I say it, my place is to be within life, not to make myself an arbiter of fates.


Maybe destiny is happening everywhere and it's not anger that changes that or should.



Somehow I have to know that people take love for what it is and that there's good in that.


Something is feeling happier now.

Maybe you'll recognize your own life here. Maybe you won't. I have to be frothie:
JBM is doing what she can. And I like it.

So, easy on me, c*.

Give happiness and you will find love.

Maybe I'll do something like make myself happy.

Number one.

Embrace the Goddess

Second.

Be with myself as I am.

Third.

Act according to what will bring joy to others.

This is getting way too serious again.

I want a girl.

A little late to make that turn (again).

Share:

Goddess please I love you.

I hope also to love.


Girl, what kind of anger is there that you are trying to express?

My mother is free; I am changing and it's not that pretty.


Or glamorous, glamor pusses.

Hardened athletes chase their own feelings.

I do that without living.

Pain is not good.

Shit, I'm like a flow of poison.

Change is cocksucking.

Okay, I do feel like a person.

and You Can Listen as fields.

I've wandered through a lot of them.

I like myself.

Please be free.
having read the above I can only say that without benefit of editing there is still a love for you.

I need to let go.

Inanna/Brigid/Ashtoreth:
Dealing with pain is not the way to feel happy.

I wanted to live, not do what others asked or what I thought they wanted.

Crack is being cruel.

Killing is not feelings.

I love feelings.

Pain and change are not one.

Revolution is not anger.





Drawing away from all this, I act like there's good but I love stumbling.

I wish you peace.


I wish you friendship.

What's up, C*?

I hope that you and I will answer to home.

I hope that seeing hope with a loving eye will reveal that change like happiness is tangible.

Tacky boring charges aren't nice.

Will there happen a good poem?

Shame is not sexy.

What's up, C*?

The Bottom

There is no Creation without Being Here

Killing Babies when they test this feeling
A Goddess, pained, feels a crack living, changing

Maybe anger was a fraud
As life continues, people want pain

Sexual feelings, time is failed
Shit, what was hope?



People Teach Hope for that Crack of Stars

Bearing temporary feelings, interested as flesh in prostitution
A woman lesbian Goddess says live and help crazy poems



I Need to Stop Listening to Change as Poison

Fussing women like hope:
A certainty of a charge.

Maybe life is happy
Like home is beauty

Best Line Yet

Creatively speaking, love sucks dick.

I don't know what to do.

Places, Pleases, Africa, Targets, Money, Crime, Change, Good, Money, Treatment, Love, As Christ, check out and be the only fool that interests life in patience.


I know what I know -- Be It A Clue

And:

Real Quick

Put a lot of stress on my heart, etc., as a result keep getting "twinges" in my back and chest. I think it's getting better, but if not, I evidently have made some really bad decisions.

All I had to do was tell CEG I love her?

So much for making people kind.

I feel that there's so much for me to accomplish. If I don't, let me tell you that the major reasons I had for acting the way I did were: to make people nice because that would make me happy; power; kindness; friendship; zeal; and competitiveness.

Not all these go together.

In the future, if you think of me without being able to be in touch, just remember that there is goodness and love in everyone.


Love,

c*mare

Caring for oneself

Amazing that there isn’t a place to go where no one has a problem, such as, “is there hope?”, “is there help?” “is there contentment?”

I’ve probably done as much as anyone to make certain that places like that don’t exist, from sheer cruelty.

I abjure such cruelty.

Now please listen.

Home is awareness of commonality.

Only the Earth provides that commonality.

Here in Arizona there is a pain that is feelings of flow.

Flowing toward a presence of failure.

Be strong and remember that failure will not bring calm. My desire is to let go of knowledge that pain brings money, but never brings kindness.

I say the above in order that another will become someone who embraces femininity.

Encourage life.

Yours,

c*mare

Caring for oneself

Amazing that there isn’t a place to go where no one has a problem, such as, “is there hope?”, “is there help?” “is there contentment?”

I’ve probably done as much as anyone to make certain that places like that don’t exist, from sheer cruelty.

I abjure such cruelty.

Now please listen.

Home is awareness of commonality.

Only the Earth provides that commonality.

Here in Arizona there is a pain that is feelings of flow.

Flowing toward a presence of failure.

Be strong and remember that failure will not bring calm. My desire is to let go of knowledge that pain brings money, but never brings kindness.

I say the above in order that another will become someone who embraces femininity.

Encourage life.

Yours,

c*mare