Alarming: Origins

Failure is not a way to teach.

I think that a lot of harshly negative remarks about myself and others is due to my trying to cover up the fact that, to a large extent, my mind simply does not work anymore.

I tried for many years to destroy my mind, considering it a social embarrassment, a political liability, and an enemy of the spiritual.

Now, why would anybody think any of these things?

It's been said.

My life, my intentions, my hopes and even perhaps my needs have reached a limit.

It's been done.

Scars, many many scars are everywhere (even in you?)

There has been a lot I've done that was ill-considered. I don't need to recount it all or regret that I followed a certain kind of logic and type of behavior to near physical death.

What I need for myself is to love what there is left to love.
F'r instance, music on the internet.

At all events, it's been change that has made me face changes in myself that I needed to make.

I need to become aware of the sources of my self-destruction. I'm fairly sure that they are not all my fault. In fact, I know for a fact from memory that I was not always that way. I believe that someone external to me hurt me. I don't need to go into details. I also believe that I have never understood how weird I was. I wanted to be a feeling, strong, and kind person. I just didn't feel that it was bad to love myself as I was. I bent over to give. Literally, of course.

I tried to know what I thought. I wanted to tell others like f'r example, many of you, what made sense without limiting that to being only my opinion.

I loved a friend. I needed friendship. Pain changed me. I used it to change what I do, following upon living for abuse, which I need to reject here and now.

Since you and I probably cry, I will let there be mothers who live passionately.

Hate shares money when it wants strength for itself. I was wanting a presence of dreams. Those dreams were about love and crack. I tried to be my own fool.

The Goddess hopes but that's what there is when life is love. I'll say it: I just wanted time. I made friends! What friends? I wanted to live like RMM that I thought was a mother as cruel. She wasn't. I wanted to be protected, thinking that it would lead to home. I loved what I loved: class, fame, and tension from being cruel. I am a fuck.

That's the origin.

Now, what is love?

Embrace happiness. That's change for me. I know that's somewhat narrow, but I love passion.

Love me, please.

Dear RT,

Thank you for being happy.

I don't think he reads this.

Note: I created a world for targets. That's not good.