another chat with the moon
Question:
that is just starting to wane after an astounding performance that lives up to its reputation in poetry and i miss tess valerian who hasnt been showing much of herself of late. also i miss J/c a whle big bunch. sie profoundly affected the mood and natrue of the ng with hir incredible good humor, intelligent wit, and willingness to risk via topic for conversation and honest, forthright address of those topics. but that’s is not what i come to the moon to talk about. it is only that when i arrived in your presencen, moon, that i thought of tess, and the thought of tess triggered a reflection on asdissers missed and then J/c came to mind. Ah. Associataion. Not dissociation! Perhaps I am cured. just said to laugh. please laugh. can everyone please laugh. at last the days grow longer. and even before they started growing longer, at least in my part of the world, they shifted so that the sun started setting later adnlater each day. it is now up to 4:51 or 4:52 p.m , the sunset. this certainly makes a big a difference to my dog, whose entire comprehension of time appears to be based upon sunlight, the slant of it, and her hunger, not sure what composes time for me, since for me it is an ever shifting thing. recent’ly a good friend gave me a gift of a unique, handcrafted clock that is a purple on white laminate non-objective design that looks like written music gone mad. all twisted and floating, so that it can almost be heard although what it sound like remains a mystery. no numbers, just raised purple dots at the quarters. and it came with a card that says, "The it’s-not-always-about-time clock." the perfect gift for a dissity diss like me. perfedct. just rememberd that i wanted to say hi to jane, that i’m glad to have seen some post of hers recently. i always miss jane. i oughta email you jane. i do want so to be canadiean. aiiiiiiaiiiii!!!! here ciome the As*croft M*eller brigatdes to take me away for talking like a traitor. but what did i come to talk to the moon about? oh yeah. the weird, unpredictable, rear end covering and tushie kissing behavior of the vast majority of people i meet everywhere i go. everywhere i go people lie . they lie to me. they lie in front of me. they lie about me, and then i learn of that from someoboedy else later on. they lie about themselves. they lie to gain things and they lie just as frequenlty adn, wiht the same ease and sly craft, they lie just for the amusement of it. i can’t fathom it. i can’t fathom keeping trac k of all of the lies enough to make ertain that they arent compromised, never mind that i seem to be on a mission not only to discover the truth, but to discover if there is a truth. it confuses me, anyway, when i discover lies, or comprehend that a lie has been told. that crreepy person who created the whole big police scene in my life a few mos. ago that continue to obsess me with terror and insomnia and has changed my life in permanent, unhealable ways, such as the loss of my t via the loss of my faith in hir and my experience of and observation of the t’s own doo doo and countertransference slime getting all over me without any success on my part, try as i mght, and i do try with all of my might, but i might not have any mgight and if i ever did it is/has evaporating/evaporated with youth. oops — big tangent, huh? they take notes on that sort of thing to indicate how mentally ill one is. " they" being the mh pros. "they" do that, don’t they.? the creepy person lies pathologically. when caught and confronted with hir lies sie says, that sie doesn’t remember. sie says similar things when cautght/confronted with hir constant thievery and v*lnt behaviro. "it’s my mental illeness," sie says. "i can’t help myeslef. i’m mentally ill." but with a strange, mocking tone and a hint of a smirk on hir face. like sie is always telling me , or always was telling me (i havn’et permitted myself the pleaseure (ha ha) NOT of talkig with hir since the police att*ck. some people talk behind other people’s backs and say horrible things about hem, and then the next thing i know is that the ones who did the nasty gossipt are kissing the tushies of the people about whom they gossiped. why" this doesn’t make sense to me at all. why talk bad of someone and then treat that perosonas if you like them or why talk bad about someone you like? a most interesting and cynicism building ovspobservation that i’ve recently been making of people, probably a little late in the game, as i am nearing 50 and most cynics seem to develop that quality during youth, anyway it comes from watching people dance around horrible mistakes they’ve made to try and make it seem to themselves, because it will enver seem okay to anyonw else, that they didn’t make the horrible mistakes, nor, perhasps, do horrible, nasty things deliberately and with foreknowledge or maybe even plans theyat they woudl do the awful ghithings or say the nasties. like whensomeone has pretended to be my friend, which i can never figure out who becasyeyseus as far as i can tell if i’m a stpping stone the next step forward is gonna drop someobdy into the deep end of the creek. still, it seems that some people have pretebdedti be my friends and then disappeared from my life. usually tht hapens in a few short weeks. sometimes it gets dragged otu for a year or two or even three, though. and i’m not talking about drifting apart or neglectign one another. i’m talkign about clear betrayal and obvious rejection. that stuff, i just don’t get it, that stuff doesn’t jive with my expectation of what reality will be / is or how people will / do behave. but where did i get these stupid , useless, idealistic expe ctaionts and why are they so difficult to leav e me, even after all of the betrayals and hurts and injuries and rejections and abondonments, and lies and *bses i have been subjected to? why? i am confused and totally msisxxed up. i can’t imagine getting it all orgnized again. i can’t imagine, anymore, becaue s i remember taht i used to imagine a lot of things, living a life that makes sense ins a social environment that will respect me and provide me the support i need to thrive. uh oh. no no no. don’t worry. don’t anybody worry. i’m no s*icde. forget it. i’m sticking around. i don’t even feel any inclination to check out, not at all. nor to si. haven’t done anyting like that in many long mos. almost a year. but that’s irrespective of all of the questionsw and ocomments i’ve just finished saying to you moon. got any answers , moon? or anyone else who mght maybe happen to ahve read tis. Willa, again just getting sleepy as the dawn approaches. but i’m no vampire and have nebver appreciated the sick ways that vampire stories have been used metaphorically to describe and depict the sufferings caused by being human members of small minorities. everything i know, even my distatste for some parts of it, is based on life itself. i cnan’t know, iow, unless i am alive, right? oh, i’m so mixed up — For info about this service, see http://anon.twwells.com/help/ or e-mail:
Response:
I think you say many perceptive, insightful things here. So many things are just not as they should be, and are incomprehensible. I feel a lot of despair about the world, and about how unfathomably cruel people can be to one another. You mentioned laughter. Are you able to laugh at all these days? I think laughter is extremely important. I hope you are findng moments to laugh. -Nancy
