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.