Sunday nights I usually cruise a few “empty calorie” websites like Post Secret, Passive Aggressive Notes and Uhpinions. It’s kind of like eating whoopie pies except I doubt my mind accumulates fat from it.
When I was a kid I knew another kid named Kurt. Other kids, myself included would call him Kirk because of Star Trek. I used to feel bad about it until I found out what he did to C. That was the least of my “sins”.
I think I’m working through the gordian knot that my mind constantly presents me when thinking about how to solve my personal issues or my past. I could do with an Alexandrian solution but know that those tend to “solve” the issue without actually helping to resolve future problems. So even though others become angry at seeing me struggle constantly with these matters I have begun to see the insight of ignoring their personal vexations for the benefit of my own growth. It is still difficult to push away the old repulsion of taking care of myself though. It’s been beaten into me to make other people happy. Such a cliché, I know but so much a part of polite society (and impolite,) that it can barely be escaped in the abused society.
Another friend of mine I haven’t heard from since I told him my father died. I’m not sure why, it could be it’s a touchy subject for him. His sister died of suicide back when they were teens. I understand that, sometimes people get affected by past events that are difficult to process. And I’ll leave this thought hanging there. No need to get angry without any extra info to hang a hat on.
I’m finding the parasite poem difficult to write. It’s verging on the obscene. When I think about it (nothing’s on paper yet,) it becomes a poem about a fetus. Maybe that’s for a reason? Not sure, but it sounds reasonable.
Today I spent inside, one of those rainy days. I think a migraine was floating in my brain, I couldn’t see straight. It began with not being able to breathe well. I blamed it on not using the oxygen tubes for the past 2 nights. I took an allergy pill, a cheap OTC. It helped the breathing but the headache apparently wasn’t leaving and the blurred vision wasn’t either.
I sealed my fate when Mom asked if I was doing anything today. So she and K-o took the lawnmower to Sears to get serviced. I have always wished I could be as faithful to maintenance as she is. If I had stayed married to Ratshit I know we would have made a good household pair. Unfortunately I’d rather my kids were safe from death and abuse. Those are some of the sacrifices we make in life. Well at least a few of the ones I’ve made. I don’t count myself to be bad because I left a person who could support me and the kids because I didn’t want to be a servile victim. I don’t have the constitution nor the patience to be a saint.
Richard left telling me he’d come back in the morning (just about 6 hours away now.) He looked at me from the corner of his eyes, his head faced as far away from me as possible while still being able to see me. I’ve had men look at me like this before. Usually it’s a look of disrespect. Being a woman I’ve gotten it a lot. Different cultures, different generations (as is Richard’s deal,) different class distinctions, oh yes there are still class divisions in the good ol’ USA. Don’t kid yourself into thinking there isn’t. It used to bother me, it doesn’t anymore. It shows the uneasiness that some people, mostly men as far as I’ve seen but I’ve seen it in women too, have when it comes to coping with the differences between people. And I know people really feel it with me. As my Mother told me last week: I’m blunt. Etiquette doesn’t escape me all the time, I just have a blind eye for it. I think that I just feel like all humans are reprehensible so their differences mean very little therefore none deserve any special treatment. And I include myself.
I am not mistaken about Richard and his habit of addressing me from the side of his head. He had done it 10 minutes before when he told me to sweep the floor outside the bathroom.
I must have sat in dad’s old broken down recliner the rest of the day. I was angry for feeling like I didn’t have the right to just sit. I forgot that my head was messed up. Eventually I took the OTC migraine pills. I felt better. The sky was mottled outside the living room’s windows. The pine boards that lined the room became dark and absorbed the cold it seemed. So I nestled in and watched the cable and melted into the recliner. Skip-bo came and snuggled in. I consider that a personal feat that the former feral kitten will come and nestle in with me. He won’t touch my bed, never comes into my room but the chair is ours.
One of those lost days, boobtube viewing nothing much getting done.