i'm partly fearful of the key clicks and the alphabet. one, my mind has been absent, so, suddenly, here it is; it is presenting itself in the most informal, spontaneous, uncongratulating and unforgiving way. and two, thoughts solidified are alphabet-manipulation; we would have no idea of what our thoughts were if we did not spell them out. so here i am, spelling out my thoughts. let's begin.
first, let me apologize. i'm disappointed i never moved to massachusettes and rented that spacious apartment with the pretty blue walls. then again, the old mr. and mrs. were scammers. so i changed my mind; i'm not disappointed. however, i am disappointed i did not finish my college degree. life was pending. and, i'm a fickle woman. not finishing a college degree though, what does that have to do with fickle? that has plenty to do with stup-. we'll stop there; no need to talk down on ourselves. but yes, stupid. absolutely. i wanted spectacular, wanted to give you, my dear reader, something to grasp when i found what i was looking for. like, some kind of pretty you'd find an adventure that brings you happiness. simple. happiness.
it was a rush and a joy to leave mahaffey. there's something about repression that eases your state of mind. i dare you to repress any kind of uncomfortable or dislike in your life though, and watch your body unwelcome your spirit. you will become this haunted temple that has "no trespassing" and "restricted area" signs surrounding your heart, mind and soul. you will be your own ghost, the way your mind will inconsiderately leave your body and cause all that you feel to vanish. hash tag... happy halloween? it's a POS (point of story) we have here: repression kills us all. i call it "lively suicide". i bring this up only because i've mastered repression. so much that i don't have memories. not even good memories, because although they are "good" they are still relative to those that are "bad". mahaffey, i don't remember that place. when i left it, it was like "applied repression". the hands on version. a kind of lab work.
it's unsettling the amount stress i put on myself because i think perfection is possible, like everybody except for me has achieved it. i've recently learned that because i am not perfect, i become my own ghost. escape my body and travel other places. i had no idea the price to repress would be so high, the amount of people needed to push away and the feelings and emotions needing to be traded, for such a gift as this. i'll never forget my grandparents 50th anniversary party. my dad told me i was so gifted to be able to shut people out with no second thoughts and live like i never knew them. absolute sarcasm.
and, i dared you to repress? you caught the sarcasm, yes? don't repress. it robs all happiness. instead, take full responsibility for what you did, what you said, where you went. own these things and establish yourself so you don't become unwelcomed in your own body. a ghost. a haunted temple. um.. it's february. carve some pumpkins in the snow, and accept yourself? you'd swear i wrote this in october, it'd be so much more parallel to the season. regardless, it's all that can be done. acceptance, kindness, and painting toes. love, otherwise, we are nothing. and why we are nothing? love is absent.
sleep well. it's past my bedtime by a long shot.
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