i wrote a bunch of stuff, but i am not posting it in order.
this one is from today:
god i hate the way that i write. i'm such a loser! i swear to god. it's my mother, and i think her mother before her -- they were both quite careful about grammar. it is really annoying, and the whole thing about "proper" grammar is heirarchical subterfuge.
so, when that troll came along and pointed out that i was a loudmouth busybody, i was really just embarassed. it is so true! i went back and looked at a lot of posts, and i was annoying quite often. like with riffle thing, commenting on the chair! it's like i have no social skills. i don't know where stuff like that comes from, or why i don't have the judgement not to say things like that. i really don't. that is why i like trolls, not always, but i felt that the person who was trolling me and i had an understanding on a cosmic level, even if they really thought they hated me on this level.
something else weird is that my nose hurts when i write or when i am around people. it must be one of those energy things, where i am restricting some energy flow for some reason.
a few years ago i was really cracked up, but that was a good time for me. i lived in a beautiful place, went out in the woods almost every single day, and felt really free to be a kook. things were dark in a different way though, like i would get stoned and feel like i was talking just like someone in my family, kind of like i was them. i also couldn't remember things right: my mom told me not to call her, but i thought that i was the one who cut her off. i didn't talk to her for like a year and a half. i had about seven jobs in one summer because i kept walking out, not showing up or getting fired. Ha! so i was really poor, but there were a lot of fun people there, and like i said, it was beautiful. however, i got into fights with people, and i was rude in other ways. at the time these reactions seemed necessary, however. that was also a time when i felt Straight acutely, and raged about it when i was alone. i didn't want to work at a job i would have to drive to, the pollution and all that. i would not mow the lawn, either, which my landlord was not happy with. he he. that was fun. but you see, really brilliantly crazy. it's fun.
i was a knuckler in Straight. sit up. i don't know why. when did that start? was it after my setback? maybe that choice i made, i imagined that escape so much that i can see it now like it's real! the truck handle. i was going to pull the truck handle and just run! or jump off the back deck and run through the woods. but i didn't do it, and the rest of my life i am the person who did not run or fight back. i didn't do anything.
