what was i saying?
2003-06-09 ~ 2:57 a.m.

comrade said something tonight about people reading her website and thus knowing more about her. (which is located at www.karenwisely.com , by the way.

it is a strange thought, really...to know that strangers and friends alike are able to do that...

it is why in the last few months i have taken to writing elsewhere or not writing at all. because sometimes you just don't want the real world creeping around outside.

especially when the crazy is at a boiling point.

which is why my mind gravitates jerkily towards things like this fucking statute of limitations.

you have every right to ask...why do you care if you have neither the means nor the will to pursue it...and that would be a good question. to which i would answer...

because i blame myself.

i blame myself for everything.

and yet i keep hearing people tell me i am not to blame.

not to blame for...

not having the vocabularly to explain to my mother exactly what it was that eric put in my mouth...

not having the fucking sense to tell someone about karla and joe in time to make it stop...

it wasn't my fault that i was neglected or unloved or abused or left...

so what bugs me is the obvious. if it wasn't my fault, then whose was it?

my faulty little sense of self, erected in sand with an impending tide...can only lead to...

reef crash. messy.

why don't i know what i think?

is it like an equation with one incorrect variable...or is it as magical as it could be?

is there someone to blame, is it my fault...or is it just the luck of the draw?

sat up with chappy and talked most all of the other night. started out on her...and why did we end up on me? hmmm.

tried to explain what it is...about me. really more about home. that is just somehow off - not quite right. talked about the night in the cemetary getting stoned with richie discussing the more king-like (the writer guy, yeah...that one) aspects of potter city.

maybe i am just crazy.

hester and jo are sleeping...the dogs are misbehaving purposely.

mouse and heater are wrapped up in the bedsheets of a fabulous weekend, we hope. happy birthday heater!

the chaplain will be home tomorrow...err, later today.

i forgot to eat yesterday and the control is a drug. i'll enjoy the high while i can...because they will remind me to eat tomorrow.

i should go to bed...said enough for one night...

even though i can't stop the tumble overflow of thoughts and feelings rushing current pulsating veins throb beneath the point centered beam of light circling you keeping you back one step ahead of the ledge all the while knowing you yearn to not fall but be caught up and tenderly smashed possibly bashed but creating a loud bang and thus the possible creation of new worlds nevertheless...

don't drown in the verbage just because i can't adequately speak my mind.

watch your step...those tears i'll never shed may make things slippery.

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