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Drums, Pa, United States
My heart is on my sleeve and my soul is on paper. Please be kind to those around you, we are all glass.

The richness of sybolism

The richness of sybolism
Telling my story with no words

Thursday, December 16, 2010


It takes loads of restraint and is almost humanly impossible to not use the super powers of evil inside.  I possess a wrecking ball poised at your front door and to not walk up and ring the bell with the force of the index requires super human effort.  At times I regret my determination to be different, to be swift and fair.  I want to be a blunt, mean, hurtful bitch to equal your lack of consideration for this heart that counts your every breath.  This heart that carries the super glue and shop vac for the sadness and injustices done to you.  Your range on the consideration spectrum is nothing short of miraculous, it confounds me.  You are really never here when it's crucial.  You gave, at best, some pretty words.   Even when capable, not even a word to see how I am.  I turn into a needy, selfish, clingy baby with no respect who tantrums for attention.  It's not me but it's all I have.  Why do I care so much?  Why can't I just be honest about it, lower my expectations, not need you so much?  The truth is the break feels good but I want you jumping through hoops to get to me and you are not.  Yeah, this is healthy.  But if we are who we say we are we should be able to handle an honest conversation.  My fear is that we won't, we give us more credit than we deserve.

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