Categories
Astrology Charleston, West Virginia My Life Story On My Own Writings

A Blood Pact

I’ve decided that- as an experiment- I will make a few pacts with myself for the next couple years. These pacts have one shared purpose- to not abandon myself for a man.

  1. Unless I find someone who is absolutely devoted to me, I will not be committed to anyone. This means- barring a man who wants to marry me, take a bullet for me, give me all his money & live with me in the afterlife- I am not going to be anyone’s girlfriend.

    What is the point in being a girlfriend? It’s not a commitment. It just means you belong to someone until they dump you. If it is some kind of test run for marriage then okay. But otherwise, being someone’s temporary whore seems ridiculous. It gives you the feeling of having someone when really you don’t.
  2. This isn’t a pact but just a strong suggestion to myself to avoid having sex. Men call sex “fun” but that is gross to me. Maybe it would be “fun” to set your house on fire but you don’t do it because the consequences are severe.

    Sex is a magic spell that holds women in thrall. Christians talk about submission as a moral attainment. When really submission is a state that occurs naturally when you have sex with someone. Sex awakens powerful instincts of trust & devotion that may not be merited by this person. A man has to love you A LOT and be a very good person for this to be a wise course of action. The problem is… if he is trying to have sex with you that is exactly the sort of person he will appear to be.

    It’s the sex paradox… his true character will only come out AFTER you’ve had sex but by then you will be too attached to leave him anyway.
  3. This is the most important part. I am going to attempt to freely express myself. In my astrology chart, it is expressing myself- about things that are secret, magical, emotional or even (gasp!) sexual- with no regard for how others will take it- that moves me towards my destiny. I want to try moving towards my destiny for a couple years.

    The main thing that keeps me silent are men. I feel like their testicles are these little eggs and one wrong word from me will shatter them. Then I deserve what happens next. I feel so guilty when I fear I may have disrespected them that I begin to punish myself.

    But I gotta let myself off that hook for just two years- as an experiment- and say its okay if I’m disrespectful. It’s okay if I say something men don’t like. My zodiac chart indicates that I must avoid at all costs becoming an unctuous servant. I need to speak and sing and let the chips fall where they may.

    For two years I can try to see what happens if I place true expression above pleasing people. Thinking of this fills me with fear but that’s why I’ve begun collecting red stones.

    Perhaps no one can love you anyway if you aren’t being yourself. If someone loves you because you are down on your knees kissing them is that love or something else?

    But philosophical considerations aside, in real life, my abandonment panic controls me, overwhelming all reasonable considerations. I’m a love addict basically. I stop having needs cause men don’t like those. I stop talking cause the brains of men are easily taxed.

    And I enjoy being a clear blob to a large extent because it allows me to absorb the flavor of the other person. The problem is a point inevitably arrives when something VERY IMPORTANT must be expressed or asked for. A boundary must at last be set or things begin spinning in the wrong direction And then I find myself frozen. Unable to express it. And even when I do manage to, the person rarely honors it cause why would they? If they wanted someone with expectations they wouldn’t have chosen me to begin with. Being nothing is my selling point.

    That’s why for two years I am going to take a risk & follow the destiny outlined in my zodiac chart. To place the focus on expressing myself and let the chips with people fall where they may.

    It is extra challenging because I feel so insecure in terms of survival. I might be homeless soon. I spend about 4 hours a day crying. I apply to jobs every day but my resume is just a blank sheet of paper. This seems like the time to suck dick if ever there was one.

    But the idea in astrology is that under stress people tend to run in the wrong direction. So for me, the less sure I feel of survival, the more I focus on being polite & servile. When really I should do the opposite- become bolder & more expressive because that is where my luck lies.

    As an experiment I want to try placing my faith in this idea for two years to see if it actually works!

    And by the way- if you got some money- I can tell you where your destiny lies too! Contact me at [email protected]!

Playing a gig with Slippers at a bookstore. Look how happy she is! Sometimes I feel like an absolute loser because I have not yet increased my income nearly enough & am facing utter ruin. On the other hand, a couple years ago I would have been terrified to walk into a bookstore. Now I carried all my equipment there on my back while walking Slippers, set up and played without even really feeling nervous. So at least I have grown a lot even tho its not yet reflected in my bank account.

Categories
Charleston, West Virginia Earth, Pink, Mothers, Love men Music & Songs Purple, Magic & Sorcerers Red, Soldiers, & Fire

Jay

Jay, when you wanted to go
Were you wanting to mate her mainly?
Never wanting to save your baby oh

Stay cause I wanted to know
Sometimes I come to cry down this town
Cause I needed a home. Do you ever come near

Come far? Do you ever think of me as someone
Who could be part of your world
Wrapped in a warm red fire?

Jay, when we talk on the phone
Did you ever concieve that maybe
I could not understand why youre always alone?

And the weather is cold?
Sometimes I come to cry down this town
No one knows where I go. Would you ever come near

Come far? Do you ever think of me as someone
Who could be part of your world
Wrapped in a warm red fire?

Hold your hands behind your back
And tell me that you’re coming back
Leave me with the fire inside

Shadows dancing on the wall
Like crazy men they trip and fall
Somewhere in the fire I hide.

Jay, when you leave me alone
Sometimes I go and stand there crazy
Broken glass in my hand cause I gotta hold on

And the weather is cold.
Every night when I wander this town
No one knows where I go. Would you ever come near

Come far? Do you ever think of me as someone
Who could be part of your world
Wrapped in a warm red fire?

JayDownload
Categories
Charleston, West Virginia Earth, Pink, Mothers, Love Music & Songs

Away

Crawl into the world your eyes are slits
Fuzzy shapes & so you start to squint
Smiling harder now you try to please
Always feel so eager on your knees

Then his hands reach out so large and blue
So you do the things you always do
Try to make him happy make him stay
But in the end he just goes away.

Oh no one will love you like I do
Take my hand you know that I’ll stay with you
Forever and you say you’ll leave me
Never still you go away

First you think you’ll die but then you don’t no
To a hollow cave is where you go
Then the walls fall away and you see the sky
Your body breaks and you start to fly

This is how you learn that you’ll survive
Until another man comes down the line
So you do the things you did before
But this time he will hurt you even more

Bleeding like a pig into the rain
Clawing at a puddle made of pain
Killing everything that you love best
Because the light is breaking in your chest

Oh no one will love you like I do
Take my hand you know that I’ll stay with you
Forever and you say you’ll leave me
Never still you go away

First you think you’ll die but then you don’t no
To a hollow cave is where you go
Then the walls fall away and you see the sky
Your body breaks and you start to fly

And then you go away.

AwayDownload
Categories
Charleston, West Virginia My Life Story On My Own Red, Soldiers, & Fire Writings

Candles

I love candles. Many times a single candle has altered the course of my life.

Last night I lit a red candle and BAM!! All these realizations about sex started flooding me. I saw how it merges two people’s energy & if the man doesn’t value your survival & material well being as his own you best steer clear, cause he will dilute your energy. The energy you need to survive. Especially for someone like me who feels precarious in her own survival to begin with.

Wanting a man to invest in you materially isn’t selfish…. why would you merge your material body with someone who doesn’t love you that much? I invest in Slippers materially and take responsibility for her life. Even tho I suck at survival it isn’t that hard to expand your sense of self to include someone else. This should be the minimum sort of love a person has before you risk merging with them.

Cause for me, if I have sex with someone I become very attached. My mind and emotions are constantly drifting towards them. Why would you want to spend all day thinking about someone who wouldn’t even buy you groceries? It doesn’t make any sense. Until you find someone who at least loves you that much you should hold your energy inside cause you’ll need it. Cause I think survival is hard for females. At least for me.

It’s is hard for me to think practically, logically, selfishly and strategically which is how you need to think for survival. How would a man feel if he was expected to jack off to purple rectangles? It’s not how he’s wired up.

But men are more selfish & strategic by nature. (Not to mention that their testicles are 2 extra brains devoted to survival.) It’s what makes it dangerous to be intimate with a man unless his sense of self has expanded to include you. Because although men are designed to be selfish, they also have the ability to expand their sense of self to include wife, children, family, clan, country etc. In this way they are selfish and unselfish at the same time.

But don’t place your well being at the mercy of a man who sense of self does not include you. Because to people outside this sense of self they are ruthless.

This hit me like lightning last night. I was lighting a red candle to help me be better at surviving because I don’t know what I’m going to do for money yet. I lost my last job for not conning people hard enough & the two jobs before that were both lost for crying on the job due to smells. I’m sure there is something I can do but it always seems to require being something other than my nature. Just trying to get my brain to think about what I could do ends up with staring into space as no thoughts arise. My mind is wired to be hyperaware of what is, not to strategize a path forward.

But the red candle showed me that the first step to surviving is not forming relationships which don’t facilitate your survival. Cause why would you merge with someone not vested in you? How can it lead to anything good?

I’ve always been so afraid of being a gold digger that I sort of became the reverse. But really there is nothing wrong with a man investing in you materially. I invest in Slippers materially. I’m not going to be enjoying a delicious meal while she is hungry. That would be sick. To care about a loved one’s physical well being is the most basic form of love. If someone doesn’t love you in the most basic way WHY would you allow your mind & heart to center around them? It’s self abandonment.

It may be nobody’s responsibility to take care of me but it is not my responsibility to suck their dick either. It doesn’t really matter if someone claims to like or love you. Actions speak louder than words and if they can’t love me -at a bare minimum- like I love Slippers then being with them will dilute my raw power which I cannot afford.

I have to put myself first until I find somebody that puts me first.

Thank you red candle. I will add candles to the list of things that have always been my friends… colors, candles. End of list.

Categories
Astrology Charleston, West Virginia My Life Story On My Own Writings

Bells

Why do people say hell is red and fiery? When really it is gray and icy with each person held alone under a cold metal bell. Pumped full of pain medication, they breath, feel no pain and think thoughts of their own well being. They are glad the bell protects them. They have 100,000 dollars plus a gold brick and they are glad no one will steal it. They know no one can lift the heavy bell to find them. They have won the game of life. Every day tasty meals are dropped into the bell. Anything they choose. They eat with relish. Winning! When they relieve themselves, the byproducts magically disappear. Hell is sanitary. People never cry there. They think they are smiling and maybe they are. Who knows? No one can see them.

Pain is when you go to Heaven. Looking down, you see everything you missed. St Fanci compared entering heaven to having both your legs sawed off with a rusty blade. Pain is the price of admission.

Stabbed in the chest by remorse. You never saw the beauty of everything until it was too late. And now in heaven you’re face to face with everything you wanted to avoid.

The people you least want to see are your greeting committee, standing there waiting in white robes. Those you wanted to impress stand behind you, noticing how you’ve shit your white pants.

Everyone you ghosted, neglected, abandoned, wait for you there with arms outstretched. They hug you and the memories of how you hurt them return. The clarity is excruciating because in heaven there are no clouds, fog or shadows.

And why did you do it? Why were you such an asshole?

Because there was some wound you didn’t want to feel and now it is probed with a million forceps and scalpels. Your mind explodes in an infinite sun of pain. In heaven there are no pain killers.

I finally got this poster I really wanted. It means so much to me I just don’t know what or why.

What is the relevance of this? I don’t know. In life, I am hanging in there. I got a job as a phone psychic and felt I was really in my element. Then I got fired. I was keeping people on the line for an average of 22 minutes rather than 35 minutes like they wanted. There is a bell that rings at 20 minutes and you’re sposed to keep people on for a while after that, because the rates get jacked up. But the callers want to hang up once they hear the bell so they don’t end up with a huge bill.

My psychic hotline name was Isabel Harlon. I’m gonna start my own psychic reading business now.

So money is hard.

And love is hard too because I don’t understand it. I feel like a retard in math class. A bunch of squiggles on the board and I have no idea what anything means. I was good at math but could never understand it which drove me nuts. I couldn’t figure out what numbers WERE. What the fuck is a one? A zero? Are they things themselves or ways of seeing things? The more I thought about it, the less sense it made.

Slippers in her new cage. I am cage training her so she will be calm when I leave the house. To my surprise, she loves it!

Sometimes I read books about love and it makes things worse because there are always more and more things you aren’t supposed to do because they will emasculate men. Words you aren’t supposed to say- like can would but. Tenses you aren’t supposed to use. If you follow the rules he will love you forever! But if you can’t…. well, no one to blame but yourself for what happens next.

And I don’t want to emasculate anyone. Rip off their dick and leave them with a bloody stump. But following all these rules feels impossible, especially when one of the rules is to be yourself. And you are supposed to be vulnerable and show your emotions, the problem is there’s only one emotion you are supposed to feel- pleased. But the more bound up I feel the harder this mild & flavorless state is to achieve.

Somewhere I must find the strength to take a solemn vow that I won’t abandon myself for love anymore. Because I love romance so much. But romance comes from being yourself and feeling the chemical reaction of self touching the world. Romance comes from the beauty of your own emotions welling up to surprise you. If men need you to be completely colorless and drained of life just to be in their presence then what is the point? Money? Or just avoiding a wound- the infinite pain of being abandoned? Love is one of the bells of hell. Blocking the pain while keeping you dead inside.

I need to find the strength to choose myself but I don’t know how. I don’t feel that strength anywhere.

Slippers at an open mic. Until I train her to be okay at home, I have to take her everywhere.
The face Slippers makes when she wants a snack.

Categories
Charleston, West Virginia Music & Songs Purple, Magic & Sorcerers Yellow, Gold, Kings, Fathers, and the Sun

King of Spades

Holding hands with the King of Spades
And the sun float by in a yellow parade
He rose, he came, he saw into the flow.

Sun drop low and it turn to gray
All the shadows stretch and they reach away
To who? To why? To what? You’ll never know.

Tell yourself it’s enough when baby
There are three men waiting to kill you
And if he isn’t tough enough to fill you
You gotta let him go.

Cause when night fall like a sheet of black
Then you’re going to need someone
Don’t waste your time on a man whose having fun.

King of Spades lying on his back
When you leave the room with his eyes on your back
He rose, he came, he saw into the flow.

Mirror leaning against the wall
Till you throw your brush watch it crumble and fall
To scream, to feel, to cry and to explode.

Then you tell yourself it’s enough when baby
There are three men waiting to end you
And if he isn’t tough enough to defend you
You gotta let him go.

Cause when night come and the stars appear
Then you’ll need a place to run
Don’t waste your time on a man whose having fun.

King of Spades purple robe, eyes at night, shine and glow
Spread the deck tell him everything you know.

Eyes that shine, circling, oh God I can’t remember anything
Except I wanted you to come and carry me home.

So I tell myself it’s enough when baby
There are three men waiting to bleed me
And if you isn’t tough enough to need me
I gotta let you go.

Cause when night come and the chill appear
The game has just begun
I can’t waste my time on a man whose having fun.

King of SpadesDownload
Categories
Charleston, West Virginia Earth, Pink, Mothers, Love My Life Story Writings

Hillbillies

Now that I’m on my own I have been forced to assimilate more with the culture around me.

I’ve been wanting to write about hillbillies for a while but it isn’t easy. Because the culture exists on a different plane that I haven’t reached yet. It’s a long slow fall towards the center of the earth.

If I HAD to sum things up with a few symbols I’d choose beer, whiskey, marijuana, beans, potatoes, corn bread, cast iron, dune buggies, family, nature, guns and mason jars. Sound boring? Well it is. It’s a boredom that causes one part of yourself to die while another part opens up.

The best way I can describe it is this…. Imagine you have to spend the next 8 hours listening to your slowest, least talkative friend while sitting on the hillside in a forest. He is going to tell you the story of how he built his house, board by board, brick by brick. You are going to sit there and listen.

Behind you are 48 cans of beer. To your right is a gigantic pipe stuffed with marijuana. You are free to partake but you neither drink nor smoke.

The story begins. You try hard to focus. ‘This will be great. I’m learning something.’ you tell yourself. ‘Maybe one day I’ll want to build a house and this information will be useful.’ For the next forty minutes your brain strains, trying to extract nutrients from the story.

Then you reach a cracking point. A feeling of unbearable restlessness builds up inside you. You panic and reach for a beer.

As you drink the story continues. Nail, board, nail board. It’s as boring as fuck but the beer is starting to relax you. You sink down a little into the boredom. Nail beer, nail beer. Board. House. It’s boring. It’s boring. You will survive. You reach for another beer.

But another hour and you want to get the fuck out of there. Seriously? Oh my fucking God. You know what? Maybe you’ll try that marijuana. You smoke it and start to notice how the leaves sway with the story.

Your mind breaks up like clouds and the story washes all over you. Is he talking about a house or is it a parable for your life? You look at your friend. Was he always this insightful? You’ve known him for many years and only now you’re seeing him for the first time? You lie back on the ground and realize he’s lying there too. You briefly consider making love to him then remember you aren’t gay. The story continues.

Clouds nails boards. Clouds nails boards. The story is more boring than ever but the boredom becomes a brown flood washing over you. Your body is the house. Your friend is rebuilding it. You are rushing away in the brown waters. The past is sweeping over you and forgotten scenes from your life start returning to your mind. How did you forget so much? You’ve lived your life in a daze, haven’t you? Distracting yourself with mental puzzles that ultimately meant nothing.

And now you’re solid. Seeing the world with new eyes. You look at your friend and he seems more real than ever before. He is a potato and you are one too. It’s beautiful.

Another hour passes. Nail, board, hoard, woard. The panic arises again. I can’t take this! And then a thought… WE ARE FREE BEINGS!!!! “We don’t have to sit here Buddy!” you scream. “We are to free to go!” Light flashes in your friend’s eyes and he starts running to the nearby trail where his dune buggy is parked. You run behind him. Exhilaration. You climb in while he drives, going faster and faster than ever before. It feels like bliss until you crash and then you are flying.

When at last you come to, you realize your friend is lying on the ground beside you. He is still telling you the story of how he built his house. Nail, board. Nail, board. Your head hurts and so does your body. But it will be alright. You lie there and listen. It’s a pretty good story after all.

The End.

This is how life in West Virginia feels to an outsider anyway. I don’t know how it feels to insiders and probably never will since ‘Don’t ask don’t tell.’ along with ‘Keep it Nasty!’ are the two mottos of the region. I try to make sense of it all but this world is so dense, dark, compacted and gravitous I sometimes feel I’m being buried alive. I start to panic. Then I reach for my pipe.*

Hi!

But for reals its like I’m learning a new way of thinking. Less speed and more solid. I think its called patience. You just crack open a beer and observe while the people and things around you reveal their true nature.

* I don’t really have a pipe.

The other day a friend pulled out his knife to carve an X on my to go box. What’s that? I asked. Rebel Flag, he said.
A man gave me this old tackle box when I admired it.
A friend of a friend gave me this warm shirt. People are very nice here if you can be accepted but that is a long and tricky process involving nuances I don’t understand. If you are a friend of a friend though you get a free visitors pass.
I ate Thanksgiving in a bikers bar. They had Turkey, stuffing, pie and all the works that you could enjoy for free. You don’t need to be rich or successful to matter here. Only humble, hard working, down to earth & preferably related. I’m none of those.
Slippers and I have been reunited. This has stopped the nighttime panics of hyperventilating with the need to tell her I love her. Her presence is grounding and she makes me feel more at home.

Categories
Charleston, West Virginia Music & Songs Yellow, Gold, Kings, Fathers, and the Sun

Daydream

Close your eyes
Fantasize a place that’s safe and warm in your mind
A yellow world from the storm all the time

Arms. No more harm today.
Sometimes I go fly so far away.

So I’lll sit and day dream maybe
Hiding in the sun
Cold comes to remind you that he’s only having fun.

Someone deal you a heart & you play it
Because you wanted a game
But in the end it’s pain
In the end it’s pain.

Lie me down
Spill my mind to the ground
Roll over me
Show me everything I want to see.

Hands. Wander thru the day
Sometimes we go fly so far away.

So I’lll sit and day dream maybe
Hiding in the sun
Cold comes to remind you that he’s only having fun.

Someone deal you a heart & you play it
Because you wanted a game
But in the end it’s pain
In the end it’s pain.

Whisper in my ear you’re blurry now
I wanted something but dont know how
Dont know how to try.

Everyone said why do you feel this way
When he could be the man
Who changes everything
But I dont know I fly.

So I’lll sit and day dream maybe
Hiding in the sun
Cold comes to remind you that he’s only having fun.

Someone deal you a heart & you play it
Because you wanted a game
But in the end it’s pain
In the end it’s pain.

DaydreamDownload
Categories
Charleston, West Virginia My Life Story On My Own Writings

The Heart Protector

Did you know your Heart has a friend who follows him through life with only one goal- to protect? This friend is called The Heart Protector.

When you get heart broken or betrayed The Heart Protector can sink into depression. Where did he go wrong? How did he let his friend down?

Maybe he learns something, makes sense of his mistakes & goes back to work.

Or maybe he’s not sure what he did wrong. He moves into a state of hyper vigilance to ensure this never happens again. He builds new walls thick and crusty. The Heart lives inside these walls & starts to be deprived of light.

The Heart Protector builds walls in many ways. He may become paranoid & carry a magnifying glass looking for tiny red flags. He may become cynical & tell himself Love doesn’t exist. He may even reach the point of believing that Knights & Unicorns never walked the earth.

He can make you critical. Pointing out flaws in anyone who gets close. He can make you queasy at the thought of one day walking hand and hand with someone wearing matching pajamas.

He gives you reasons to reject people before they reject you. He fills your legs with adrenaline and tells you to run. Run to the river and drown yourself. He has a million ways of protecting his friend.

Recently my Heart Protector has been too tight & its hard to sing. I can’t catch my breath. I don’t want to go out and see people. I do it anyway but a part of me stays inside. I don’t want to write songs because there’s nothing to say. And no one to hear me.

I don’t know what I am supposed to have learned from my experiences or what I did wrong. I don’t know how to not let the same thing happen again. The Heart Protector is in a state of confusion. What to do? What to do?

So like the genius I am I’ve been trying to learn songs to make other people like me. My friend Arthur plays Sweet Home Alabama with me and Country Roads take me home. We play a gig which requires carrying 500 pounds of equipment for miles with the help of a grocery cart, setting up, playing for two hours, taking it down & carrying it back home. We make about 3 dollars each. I’m a bit worried about survival.

I can only hope popularity will help me survive. I want to reflect the culture back to itself so people will like me. Confederate flags are popular here. So are guns, knives, dicks, motorcycles, alcohol, drugs and nature.

Downtown Charleston West Virginia
A West Virginia Birthday cake. Do you see those two round cakes above it? It turns out they were boob cakes and I ate a slice when offered having no idea what I was eating. I am still trying to come to terms with this.
The view from a West Virginia bar. If you combined this pic with one of a man driving 100 mph off a cliff in a motorized easy chair while high on mushrooms it would pretty much sum up the area.
Giving a redneck hello to a guy(?) in a bar. My Yankee friends always assume the people down here are close minded. They don’t understand they are weirder than fuck.
Burning a red candle in a desperate attempt to stave off the cold. The mug is resting on a tin of chewing tobacco.
I finally had to decorate my bedroom because it was feeling too much like a prison cell. The theme is Friends. I am now expecting Dinosaurs and Elephants to come into my life.
Categories
Charleston, West Virginia My Life Story On My Own Uncategorized Writings

Bracing Myself

Sometimes I think men are about changing the outer world while women are about changing on the inside to find the magic in what is.

I feel art is a feminine activity…. it lets people transform by seeing beauty in new things. To step outside the judgments which cage their perceptions. Art that simply caters to current tastes dulls the senses like being hooked up to a masturbation machine. Artists have to follow their own muse oblivious to the taste of the people.

The point is not to please nor to shock. But to deliver a fresh stream of water that people can choose to align their psyche with should they need it. The fresh input allows inner things to reconfigure and helps flush out the gunk.

It’s the same with thoughts. Fresh perspectives have value, even if you don’t happen to need that perspective at the moment. At least it will be there offering you a mental alternative should you ever get stuck in the future.

Whether songs are good or bad and perspectives right or wrong seems besides the point. They are crayons you can add to your crayon box just in case. A color you dislike now may appeal in the future.

I’m saying all this because I want to write about hillbillies and am bracing myself for the backlash. I have yet to recover my nerve from when people attacked me for writing about poor people. It doesn’t matter that I was praising poor people & pointing out that they might be fairies in disguise. In fact people seemed angry that I wasn’t describing the poor as miserable beings leading a pointless existence.

I internalized these attacks to where I became afraid to see my own experience of poverty in a magical light. I wish I could return to that lens though. It made me feel safe and uplifted.

But when autumn came I went into panic mode…. I must figure out how to make a living now or I’m going to die! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! And the more I panic the more I can’t think at all.

So I may just have to accept the possibility that I will end up living under a bridge getting stabbed to death by a mugger because so far no better plan has come to mind.

Maybe if I had the confidence to stay on my own wavelength rather than trying to be Tarzan the Dentist I could think more clearly. Maybe a possibility for how to survive would come to mind, maybe something I could actually do.

Cause the more I try to be a lumberjack the more my brain seizes and my body freezes and I can’t function at all.

All my life I’ve felt this guilt about not being a lumberjack, a gladiator, a professional boxer. I’m never hearty, tough, dirty and hard scrabble enough to please the people around me.

James was the first person to accept me as I was and that caused a lot of my psychological problems to clear up. I stopped needing to match the color of my ice cream to the color of my shoes. I could tolerate a wider range of colors, sounds and smells which let me function more normally.

But none of this happened because he was trying to change me. Its because he accepted me as I was. If I needed white ice cream topped with white sauce and white sprinkles he would help me find it until eventually I didn’t need it anymore. He always told me to trust myself and no matter how far out my preferences were he never tried to force me into conventional ways of being. Paradoxically this made me feel more at peace with conventions until I could see them as sources of comfort. Because I’d become comfortable with myself.

But now that I’m facing annihilation the panic returns that I must become someone else to survive. A gladiator. A lesbian. A mailman. A criminal. I must shut the fuck up and find something heavy to lift at once. Then I’ll be safe.

A baby walrus I found at a flea market. I listed him for sale on eBay like a damn slave. I am wondering if I can become a stuffed animals dealer.
A quilted bear I also found and listed.
A mustard package from biscuit world…. something about this color scheme really blew me away… it looks so warm and grounded yet also inviting adventure…. maybe these are the colors of the future?
I ate a plate of poison mushrooms, projectile vomited them over my whole apartment & ended up in the ER. They were jack o lantern mushrooms & I can only hope I gained some special jack o lantern powers from them.
A stone a man gave me. Is he a keeper?
Downtown Charleston WV. I like it. But I’m not certain if it likes me. I feel I don’t have any of the traits that are valued here, like being super tough and down to earth.