Went to sleep at night for a change. Sober as a skunk. To images of slashing, cutting, stabbing, jabbing, taking the length of a knife down the middle of my forearm ripping out my veins as the knife went.
Is there anyone who can explain this me?
I didn’t think so.
I took a shower last night, hoping that I might for the first time (not a code) in years be clean. Nope. It didn’t happen again. I have no idea why I am not able to receive items unaltered as I order them. Without discussion. Without debate. Without coded words. Without anything other than the product as it is supposed to be. Coated with lanolin, or coco butter, or oil of some sort – the hand lotion I ordered sitting on my skin like a stiff blanket. It’s gross. It’s disgusting. And, it sent me to a state of depression I cannot abide.
I am not doing well.
I feel there is an interest in puzzle pieces, so I am writing. I feel they are waiting, however I am at an end with puzzle pieces. I have had too many years of hands, and dildos. Too many years of only hands.
I am beyond sad.
Sims4, I took my name off your game because I am so disgusted. It is how I feel.
My soup needs meat. Bacon.
I want it known, I despise speaking in my head. I despise conversations in my head. I cannot stand it. I abhor it. I have never for one moment liked it. I have found it nothing but obscene abuse. I believe any abuse to be obscene.
Puzzle pieces:
My brother gave me a book to read. The timing on this is muddled for me. I remember having the conversation with him about what I thought of the book, however the book was of a nature I did not want to relive. A Russian prostitution ring, where the women were being held in a house, ball-peen hammer being used on their hands, and other places to hurt them. What I remember of the book is Russian prostitution, ball-peen hammer, ball-peen hammer, ball-peen hammer, ball-peen hammer, ball-peen hammer. Over and over. I was looking to literature to be transported out of my life, out of where I was living, into beauty, and a place where belief was possible. I was not interested in reliving a past, or my past.
Thanksgiving 2012. I was still recovering from surgery. Yet, this house is alive. Everyone failed to understand what this house would feel like to live in since it is alive. All the electrical appliances are alive. All the lights are alive. All the fans are alive. The A/C is alive. The walls have ears. Camera’s everywhere. This place is a far cry from rest, relaxation, and comfort.
Is it any wonder I wanted to leave here instead of spending my first Thanksgiving here?
I will never be able to fully explain the way it feels to have to live here. There is not enough tin foil in the world.
I had visited Savannah, GA before, it is a great city. It is the first engineered city in the US. It is a day’s drive away from here. So, I left.
I will never understand the motorcycles constantly in front of me as I am driving. I was worried about making the correct turns, however I believe this to be the work of the Bluetooth in part. I stopped at the beach as soon as I got to Savannah. It is something I had been dreaming about while taking care of my mother, being outside, being free, not being on a schedule anymore. Feeling the wind on my face, in my hair, smelling the purified salt air, my bare feet on the sand and water regardless of the temperature. A beautiful piece of driftwood was on the beach, so I took a photo. Ryan hearts Abby in black sharpie. A large family that looked like they had just finished their meal, took to the beach with a football. How nice for them. I was far from being in the holiday spirit.
I checked into my hotel as it was getting dark. I put my luggage in my room, then walked to the corner gas station for a bag of chips and a six-pack of beer, a turkey microwave meal from the hotel lobby, and my first Thanksgiving away from my mother, I sat on my bed and watched Castle episodes before finally falling asleep.
I went to the Naval museum, where the tour guide pointed out the carpet design that hid a vent or some other function of the once famous house. What?! Come on, who does that? Moment. Snap-shot in my head.
I walked and walked the city. I wanted to get a drink at a bar and walk, yet there was this – thing in my head I hadn’t figured out how to tell them, you don’t own me, motherfucker – so I kept walking. I wanted to find a handsome man and have a romantic travel adventure. I believe that day is past anymore.
I went to Burt’s Bee’s shop which was lovely and full of things I hadn’t thought about. I bought soap. I bought Christmas presents for my brother.
I went to this cute shop that was part antique store, part old-fashioned ice cream soda shop, part chic, contemporary coffee shop.
I went to the antique stores because I have a thing for antique stores. You would think I was a lady the way I go goofy over antique dishes. All sorts of pretty tables enter my mind, and I dream of the luxury of pretty things. Also, I have this silly notion about a wedding ring.
As a little girl I did not dream of getting married. Actually, that is partially untrue. When we lived in California I used to brush my hair in front of the mirrors in the living room, in my white nightgown, saying it was my “be married” dress. I did this in front of company, so I have been told. I don’t remember it.
When I was in my early twenties I dreamed of finding a wedding ring in an antique store. This was after having read in Vanity Fair about Blood Diamonds. The thought of buying a new diamond ring disgusted me. So, I thought what if I got a wedding ring from an antique store? There is no way to put the diamond back once it has been removed. Plus, what if the ring had a story to tell? What if it could be a continuation of another couple’s great love.
I am a silly girl, I know.
I went to all the antiques stores, book stores, clothing stores. They have some great stores in Savannah. I just have never had any money. There is a great fountain in Savannah. I took pictures. It is a fountain that is so well placed it is hard to take a bad photo. My stage name at Disney used to be Fontaine.
I had fried green tomatoes and watched the guys in the black SUV watch me as I ate. I went on the tall ship that was docked. I love Tall Ships. I have always wanted to take a long vacation on a tall ship. I saw David Wolfe, zooming by on a boat while I was by the tall ship. Wish he would leave me alone. There was a lot of unusualness in the air in Savannah.
I posted in my blog at the hotel before returning home. It was a piece about feeling like a nomad. Because I had yet to find a place that felt like home. Norwegians being nomadic, wandering the world, conquering peoples, exploring, basically wearing the t-shirt that reads, you can always tell a Norwegian, but you can’t tell him much.
I stopped at Daytona Beach on my way back home. Walking and walking the shore. Freezing to death as it was too cold in the wind for what I was wearing. Finally, I returned home to my cats.
I want to know why my cats had to be taken from me.
Savannah is a great city that feels like a town.
Whoops, sorry. Almost forgot. Just before I got to Orlando, “Aubrey” called me wanting to know if I wanted to meet them at the Thai temple for a ceremony. Sure.
Something to know about me, I am high energy. How else do you think I was able to work full-time, go to school, go to Thespis meetings, go to student government meetings, and keep the morale of those in the Thespis society going? Because I took naps? I don’t think so.
Do you know when I ran for Thespis President, I ran unopposed?! Perhaps David had something to do with it, or perhaps everyone understood what a waste of time that would be. In Reg’s speech at the Honor’s Society I received for Leadership in the Thespis Society, he wrote about how much I put into not only the required facets of the position I held, but also the human relationships I spent my time and energy on. For, the only way I know how to lead people is through relationships. I do not believe in leaders who dominate, control, torture, or demand. Haven’t you known a person that you would do what they asked of you because of the person they were?! That is a person that does not need a title to be great. They simply exist in their skin, and the rest of them extends beyond their skin.
When, I met up with “Aubrey” and her daughter – two things. One, the relief that washed over the man’s face who had been following me as I met up with “Aubrey”. Two, she mentioned that watching Castle was sort like porn. Snap shots. Not a problem.
When I worked at Disney, I received a call from a man who booked a vacation and spoke to me about the difficulties he had with the Russians while adopting Russian children. He adopted more than one child, the exact number I am not certain. The only thing that was amiss to me was the fact that he did not seem overly excited about children he travelled to get, and all the money he was spending on them. This phone call was in no way – a problem.
I doubt anyone was surprised by my reaction on Sunday. I believe it was expected that I would continue and not pursue medical attention. How many domestic abuse victims and cases go on unreported? How many rapes go on unreported? As those in charge are aware of my past abusive boyfriend. I did not, nor do I wish to share this information about Sunday. I am only doing so now for Russia.
Let me pause, for a moment. I wanted to read James Joyce. I wanted to read The Dead. I wanted to continue my literary journey. I went to Barnes and Noble, looking for books. No James Joyce. I asked the aproned help about James Joyce, they could not help me. Now, there was an African-American man standing in Barnes and Nobles looking at me so much that I wanted to ask him if I could help him. I believe he was wearing his badge, his gun was in his car. Can I help you? Like a sore thumb he stuck out. I will never understand this, following me everywhere.
Can I help you?
I mean, come on.
Sunday, what felt like an electrical charge that started at my neck, went down the length of my back, and across the middle of my back. I made no noise. I started to let out pain, but held it in. I ignored the pain as much as possible. Breathing was very difficult. I could not get a full breath in, by the end of the night I was grunting to get breath. It felt like I had broken ribs. It turns out my neck and back were badly burned. Then, two days later one side of my neck was swollen larger than a softball. For me, by not uttering a noise, I was turning my back on those who did it to me just to watch me suffer.
I am not interested in writing anymore about it.
Adults who use diapers as sexual play things are gross: Haven’t you ever watched something on tv that you would never do in your own life?! I remember flipping through the channels and finding things like that. Adults dressed as children and babies and having sex?! Yuck! But, you sit there, or at least I sat there, however in my head I was thinking, do people actually do that? Is this made up? Is this just for show? Who would do this? Who would go on tv and do this? What would interest a person to do such a thing? What kind of personality does a person have to do something like that? On and on. And, not just that show, all kinds of shows.
Have you ever had to teach yourself to laugh again?
When I was taking care of my mother I felt myself in a very bad way. Flat. Emotionless. It is hard to explain. I remember watching home shopping shows just to hear people talk. Is that how people talk? I remember watching “church” shows to hear people talk. I remember seeing sex show (it is the best way I can explain it) to remember what sex was. Is that what sex is? Is that what sex looks like?
This is unbelievably embarrassing and hurtful to have to share these stories.
I remember laughing at The Container Store and thinking to myself, was that too loud?
I’ll let you think about that for a moment.
I was completely unaware of how to feel, behave, or understand how I was perceived anymore.
Turns out, I wasted my time teaching myself to laugh again. For, I don’t laugh anymore. Not for years. Nor smile.
When they took away my ability to have children, they left me without the ability to be penetrated by a man. Visualize that. Think about that. Instead of a hole there is this hard rubber disk that does not open or expand or bloom.
All those years dreaming of finally being able to find a man and get married, and it has been taken away from me. Hands do not do it for me. It is not what I want. It has never been all I wanted. There is a difference between keeping up sexual maintenance, and sexual fulfillment. And intimacy.
In a way they left me disabled. I am not able to have a full sexual life. No one will be able to explain this to me. No one will be able to tell me why this was acceptable to do to another person – to do to me.
I wish I had never had that surgery. I would have been better off in an emergency room for I believe it would never have happened. The doctor told me it would have been a year and I would have been in an emergency room having an emergency surgery. I will never again believe this.
I will never understand why my sex was taken away from me.
When I understood Edison’s deception, I stopped believing in David Wolfe.
David Wolfe and his girlfriend made these You-tube videos which basically made fun of me, however I was proud of him for doing something and making videos.
However, I stopped believing in David Wolfe because of Edison. It will never be the same again between us, ever.
My sex has been forever taken away from me.
I am no longer sexually viable. I am no longer sexually attractive. My sex has been taken away from me. Like a eunuch. In this day and age, I have been subjected to such falseness. They have left me like a eunuch.
Why would I ever think a man would want to marry me?
WE - DO NOT AGREE! 