it's just disorienting to know others fear for me and some still don't know what difficulties a person who's regarded as a military weapon must face just trying to pay their own bills. i have a very damn near impossible time receiving physical mail now that i'm not in isolation but that was always the goal for me. i just wanted to roam without scorn in my face.
and having donated so much work to NASA to privatize spaceflight, to protect journalists, and to make an attempt to set up a proof of concept calendar with interdimensional stop points, having success means that i'm safely vulnerable.
evil is still alive, believes it loves me, adores its own amnesia.
sitting under that shadow i didn't think i'd have to change my name, but that day came and while the devil sang, the demons danced. choirs that echoed your voice saying, "it is true. it is right. it is just." all these years and dreams have passed, i fought belief. i denied my heart. the memories are alive again and it worries me. if i've betrayed you, i'll find out soon..
we have days like this and i punish myself, but it doesn't feel like i'm doing it quite enough. my frustration and hate for my self, for this is so much harder than can be fair to express to the outside world. can't sentences. broken broken broken. heart, emotions. i've fucked myself all up, i've fucked it all up, it's because it's my fault. i'm the one, with the guilt. i'm the one who deserves it.
i'm alone, it's my fault. i'll wrap myself in a blanket of blame you'll never unravel, i'll never let you heal me of my shame.
i deserve it. you punish me, but i'll punish myself harder.
my doubts gurgle up like water after the spewing of a geyser that'd been obstructed. i have this sinking coldness in my viscera because of my promises and fears. i've made such massive sacrifices, i've made such undeniable breakthroughs, i've made progress, and now i've made myself afraid of my own worth.
i tried not to fall asleep crying, but the pains that wrack my mouth after my wisdom teeth's extraction made me awash with additional anxiety as i had to use narcotics after two days' resistance to the need, to get my rest. and i awoke after three or four hours in a tangle of sadness and worry.
i'm in love and he is real and this compounds the sensation of sadness that i feel when the distance is a known quantity awaiting its traversal. until now, my willingness to force my heart to overcome the need for physical closeness has outweighed my shadows' conspiring nagging to give up and admit my unworthiness to have my dreams come true.
for the first time in years, i went to sleep unreconciled after a rift with someone i love more than anything i know in this world. awakening realizing how badly i need i need i need === === === === ............... .............. ............. ........... .......... ......... ........ ....... ...... ..... .... ... .. .
i need to be held, in his arms. i KNOW MY LOVE is real, but going to sleep without properly reconciling makes me feel things i haven't felt since i realized the delusions i'd created in my mind were only a fantasy... a fantasy i invented to cope with losing my first very serious relationship, to cope with being rejected by the mother of someone i'd believed i'd marry. a fantasy that indirectly put me in psychiatric hospitalization again. a fantasy that put me in grave danger leading up to that point.
of all i've lost in my life. of all i've survived-- should this prove to be a fantasy as well, i cannot make it out on my own, alive.
help me, heavenly father, for i'm losing my strength.
and if i can't bear children in this life, let me have the opportunity to raise an unwanted child instead.
the hanged man i never pity, my dear unfaltering friend. i do my best to console or advise, but i don't know this woman who has been causing him distress.
the fool, i hold dear, introduced them to each other, and without tarot; somehow good times were had by all, despite everyone's anxiety about their own lives.
i think back as hard as i can, about having that fraternal love, being the tomboy or at least the alienated woman all my young adult and adult life.
the hanged man said, "Love is a word so over-used in the English language to mean so many different things to the point where it has meaning only when the person who uses it expresses it with genuine feeling."
i love the fool, i love the hanged man, they give me strength as individuals, and having introduced them was unexpected and fantastic. thank you, modern technology, for making that hours long conversation possible last night.
and until last night i'd never seen a human drama's unfolding to be something that has a very bright side: if this woman weren't distressing the hanged man so much, maybe he wouldn't be keeping in touch with me. i'm honored that he even seeks my advice, even though i know there's approximately no woman in his life he trusts to make sense of what women DO.
instead filled with turmoil, navigating that ship. at the bridge, spinning that wheel, or taking that control... past the lake, and past the iron heart of that beast-- we accidentally awakened it, stirring up within its' entrails; first, the flood.. and second, it breathed fire at us. it scorched us nearly to a crisp, alive; but this time we made our escape.
our prayer now is that we don't have to go back there ever again.