Anniversary (an additional bloviation, of which even I am tiring.

Today I need to write down why I didn't allow love to be my strength.

I fear making others wonder why I'm alive.
I wonder what is my own being.  Do I have beauty?  Am I free?

Can I win the life of hope?

Is there winning?  Do I have to pursue it?  Can I like what I feel, which is that I am cold emotionally.

I hate it.  I do not want anyone to believe that there is reason to be a bitch.  Bitches have one thing:  life.  I can't have that because I would be a pig.  Pigs are those who make people like anger. 

I hate this feeling of being cruel because of my failings.

They begin with what is peaceful.

I was beautiful in being creepy.  Meaning alive.

When you are a creep, you can try many things to live for.  I was wrong to be rude to my friends.  I didn't like the fact that I was alone.

Now I'm beginning to believe that I am not the only person that doesn't like making feelings be the only way of teaching that wonder and creativity are strong.

I know that I feel like I'm poor in my belief in my friends.  They are wonderful and they are strong.  They cannot stay free with my grief in their lives.  My grief is for my body, which was alive for making hope.  Now I am here without believing in my own dreams.  I dream that there is good in life.  I dream that I have feelings that don't give me fear.  I dream that no one is afraid to give me beauty.  None of this seems like I have the beauty I need to give others in order to be happy.

Out of my life I understand that people give themselves what they need to be strong.  I feel that I am rowing my own person toward pain, the pain of cruel death.

Death is not the only being of this dream.

People are cruel when they have no being.  That is when I am a failure.  A failure is where money and love are free to become the desire of life.

I knew what I felt when I had money or the belief that I would have money.

I thought that everything was good in being mine.  That was a delusion that was very pleasant.

I wanted a way to grieve love without being poor.  I don't understand the kind of anger that makes people want me to be alive because I'm failing them.

I am angry at my life because I never wanted my money to involve anger against dreams that any one would give themselves for, such as peace and happiness.  The money I have is from my angeer against anyone who was a nothing to me.  I thought that no one was the same as I was, because I had been the only person that I knew who made anything that was ideal as a way to make freedom because it was the only knowledge that could make me alive, which was that I had been good.

I suppose this makes me a nothing to you.  I was good.  However, I did not consider that people would rather be nicer than I was.

Good to me was an expression of happiness that people have the power to act according to what I thought would make them happy:  giving others the benefit of a doubt, giving others the benefit of acting for themselves and acting out what was their own uniqueness which did NOT harm.  I believed that since my uniqueness obviously was not harmful to others that no one else would desire that either.

This is getting confused.  This is only part of the story of what made me act the way I did.

I made myself (in my mind) the only person that others could become free by loving me.

I did this because I was bordering on anger when I had the knowledge that I was foolish about love.

How unfair to be a fool.

Maybe you will begin to know that I am not an inexplicable person.  I had my thoughts and feelings, which may have been extreme and even "bizarre" but they were those of a human.

Now I need to make you know that when I am good to myself, when I treat myself with love and kindness, that I enjoy being happy.

And now for the universe to continue in its path...

Dear Goddess,

I am thankful for the ability and chance to write what may be meager and in some ways unsubstantiable, but what is something that reflects my reality enough so that someone may believe in the imperative for me of life, life that is worth living on the terms that you have allowed me to choose, or otherwise accept as part of what you have given me.

I love you.

Always in the way,  but maybe not so much as usual, JBM

This is sort of meager, but maybe it is a beginning of something better and easier if I allow it to "flourish".

Raw pain is fear of peace.
Fear of peace is from thinking that no one would be my woman.

Hahahahahahahaha.

I was grieving my grandmother and Shaida's departure when I came out.  Now I understand why there was so much fear that I would never be safe.

Never use even your most kind friends to be safe.  Stand on your own two feet, or everyone will regret it.

And there is happiness.