Has no one told you she’s not breathing? Hello? I’m still here!

This place is killing me. Still awake over three hours after posting my usual “off to bed!” on Facebook, just out of a bath that I took because I was ready to scream at the prickly pubic hair growing in. Washed my hair while I was there because it’s been a few days. Heart pounding. Realize as I step into my room that I’m holding my breath; I let it out. Breathing is a task that requires my focus and deliberate attention, not something I’m doing without trying. I feel the knots throughout my body, the tension in tendons and scrambled-up muscles. This is a place where I am angry, I am tense, I am so full of ugly emotion that I feel like exploding, like grapes in a microwave, like an apple under a sledgehammer. I was horny earlier, got distracted, didn’t do anything about it. Now I’m so wound up that relaxing enough to get myself turned on again isn’t really an option. Then again, neither is screaming and screaming and screaming until I’ve let a little bit of this out. And there’s nothing available to destroy that doesn’t matter; I could benefit a lot from crowbar and hammer to wooden pallets, for example, or an old mattress, or other unwanted and broken furniture. Sleep is the only escape i have, and it’s so little, and so insignificant in its assistance. At least I breathe when I’m asleep.

Just try to comprehend that which you’ll never comprehend

There are some people who believe that any consumption of alcohol is a horrible, irresponsible, dangerous thing, that it is impossible to drink wisely or well.

To them, there is no difference between “I walked down to the bar, had a couple of drinks, hopped on the bus home, and fell asleep” and “I drove to the bar, had a whole bunch of drinks all night long, started several fights, groped every person I found even slightly attractive, then got in my car and drove home drunk, probably ran over a couple of people along the way.”

Most of the rest of us recognize that there’s a world of difference, that in the first example nobody was harmed. This metaphor can be extended, but unfortunately there are far too many people who can’t distinguish between an example comparable to the first and an example comparable to the second if I were to take this the direction I want to go with it… so it’s not prudent for me to do so.

But my eyes still see.

Watch.

Watch how people react. Watch how they freak out, how they distance themselves, how they find hoops to jump through, contort themselves into finding reasons for “good people” to have really been “bad people” all along.

Listen.

Listen to the threats of violence, listen to the way words are twisted and their meaning obscured. Listen to the “solutions” offered to the “problem.”

Observe.

Observe the reactions, the calculated change in how people treat someone. Observe the demands for extermination, incarceration, destruction.

And stay silent.

Silent when yet another “joke” gets thrown out about how you should be killed. Silent as another person says “hey, maybe it’s actually not a big deal,” and they too are marked as evil, shunned and hated. Silent as they preach about how “love is never wrong” and then make a point of finding an exception (that isn’t love, that kind of love is wrong, it’s impossible to really love that way, you’re making it up) but be sure to nod your head in agreement when they ask you to confirm for them that you agree that you are worthless and undeserving of love. They don’t know what they’re really asking you.  It’s small comfort, but it’s what you’ve got.

Silence is golden, but it’s not the kind of gold you can spend.

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