Tuesday, June 24, 2008

count bessie rocks.

just the way a starving anaconda strangle its prey, arthritis has ensnarled my hands. i look like that damn chicken from the golden girls that played the piano, with the way i am pecking at this keyboard. (i am also massively contemptuous at my ability to correlate anything in my life to a golden girls moment. it takes talent, ya know. its not easy as one may think... well, either that or i am an incredibly enormous dork. which, in all truth, is most likely the answer.)
today i saw where somebody commented on how richard would be missed. naturally this sent me into a tail spin of fury. it was like a band-aid being ripped off of not just a papercut, but more to the tune of being ripped off of a chemically burned penetration wound. that was the catalyst for my thoughts to run all which ways, from north to south.
i do not think that i will EVER understand evil to that extreme. i have been mean, hateful, honory, indignant, bitchy, vengeful, spiteful, and even mischevious in my lifetime. any of us have. that is a part of growing up; going through various stages as we garden our personalities into fruition. but never has a morsel of evilness coursed through my veins. (i am sure that there are those out there who will eagerly testify against that proclamation.) no. no evil has ever resided within my soul.
his evil resignated hundreds of miles. a silent, deadly, invisible, devestating wave that channeled across all lines. it knew no boundries, and penetrated thoughts, hearts, fears, futures, souls, and the fabrics of peoples' day to day lives. like a hideous stain that you absolutely cannot remove from an article of clothing that you own. like aids.

his soul was the color of aids.

how he can be mourned is beyond me. i thank buddha that my (hopeful) children will never know the likes of him, i thank buddha that there is more air in this world for another to breathe, i thank buddha that only the memories of his abuse remain, i thank buddha that he can no longer torture my mama. i would rather take the abuse than my mom suffer anymore.
never have i seen eye to eye with her, because gosh knows, she is a DORK. i was merely his genetic offspring, so how in this world she endured his abuse definately casts light onto a new perspective i have for her. and not to mention, a newfound sense of respect.

anyways. enough of that. my add and ocd are in high working order today. yay!

apparently, i DO have a touch of the ocd, so says my therapist. this is intriguingly funny, because i have been telling the wife this for three years. (yet ANOTHER example of my being RIGHT.)

yesth. it feels good.

being right, that is.