things you miss

Everytime I turn around there’s something I wish I could share with you. …new song on the radio, rex’s crazies, Hannah’s new words,

these

You would have loved that, -can picture you running around doing foamy imitations for weeks.

I miss the Suburban. Geez- it was a tank, sounded like a sick helicopter, and died everytime you took your foot off the gas (pray for all I was worth approaching a stoplight-please let it stay green, please let it turn green- lol). I miss it anyway. Miss hearing it come rumbling into the driveway, the slam of the door when you got out. Even miss driving the damn thing because it meant you were in my car so a little safer for a little while. ……worried and worried about you.

Comment posted by
at 1/1/0001 12:00:00 AM

I came to your site accidentially, but found it very good to read. Thanks.

my 2 favorite people

sprung

I’m home. I’m exhausted. more later.

Comment posted by
at 1/1/0001 12:00:00 AM

The more I read the more I’m amazed at the extremes they go to, the city should follow the law and disclose any and all information, seems to me they are trying to hide something or they would have already disclose, the information.

AG Response to Complaint

I received the response from the Attorney General regarding the complaint I filed. WF City Attorney is required to respond to the AG within 5 days. There isn’t an argueable position for the City Attorney to take, the AG’s in-office documentation lists everything that was submitted.

 

 

the thought vacuum

all the empty space created by cleaning and putting away of things has revived the thought vacuum. I keep catching myself looking at the clock only to realize I sat down 2 hours ago and I haven’t moved, not sure if I’ve even blinked my eyes. Eyeballs have felt like they are burning out of their sockets for a couple days so guess I didn’t blink.

@#$%! skunks!

laying on the bed when eau de skunk wafted through. Thank God the dogs are up to date on their rabies shots. Now I have two dogs that smell like skunks- too cold to bathe them outside- only have a shower inside so can’t bathe them in the bathroom…why me?!!!!!!!!!!!

lower ground

Sometimes it’s right there, inches from my grasp- happiness. I want it – need it. And I reach for it, only to watch it dissipate before my eyes. Subliminal messages whispered by my subconscious……betrayal, guilt……. How dare I consider stepping out of the shadows when he’s buried there for eternity. I scramble for lower ground, – out of the line of shots fired by a gun only I can hear.

Comment posted by
at 1/1/0001 12:00:00 AM

:>

Healing.

There was a time…when you would not even imagine happiness, much less SEE it, ephemeral/dissipating, tangible, or not.

Healing.

Be good to keep on being compassionate with what you tell yourself, your subconscious. It tends to believe whatEVER you tell it to…good bad, truth, lie, sensible, or widly-crazed…it already is listening and beliveing good things now, I feel.

Take your time; there will come a time when you will not be emotionally gunshy. Say, “By God, I AM healing…” feel anyway you want to about that fact, but say it. Often. Words have power.

Dare. As I see it, not to is like self-betrayal…like submitting to your own extinction (where your dreams strut by and wonder how you could have abandoned them; they still live on…)

Your wounds, while garish and cavernous, are wounds like any other in that it did not kill you completely…and…

it heals. :> Where you want to be, what you want – won’t always be smoke – won’t always be out of reach, I feel.
‘Nuff said.

Breathe Deeply ~
J :> xoxo
.

One out of five people die, the other four never lived….

Paging Dr. Suess; code red, code red. Keko keyco mukety muck on satchelnose on…. A rose by any other name might smell as sweet, but the garbage rotting in the abandoned lot sparks the meat. I feel her curves as I drive her streets. Forgotten friends and abandoned oaths, did you think of me as you walked home: unloved, discarded, lost, alone? Did you think of me as you filled the bath, water steaming obscuring tears? Did you think of me as you held the razor, my promise didn’t last the years? Did you think of me as you lay there red, “I’ll love you till the death,” I said (did you realize I wouldn’t be the one dead)? I’m glad you’re happy when it rains, but the streaks on my face don’t mask the pain. A better place they said just after, fucked up words from a fucked up pastor.

Hi! I’m having a good day, how are you?

Want to hear a joke? A hundred years from now, all new people.

And this is what it feels like, not a bang, a whimper.

2005 copyright Marc

(ty for keeping the monkey fed ;o)