~crap

I think that when this country (the US) started out, there was a possibility of being "free". That whole concept, though, is pretty much one big ol' floaty in the bowl. As close as one can get to actual freedom is being a "bag person" and even then, you depend on other people's trash.

It's sad.

(sorry for this rant, but that thought led me to...)


During the end of 2004, I sacrificed A LOT of my "independence"... gave up a lot of what freedom I did have. I'm bitter. VERY bitter. The little bits of hope I do have are what get me through, day to day. The hope of getting back to some semblance of self-sufficiency is what keeps the blade from the vein. (Well, that and Stem Cell research, but that's a whole 'nother topic.)

I made a mistake, a BIG mistake. At the moment, that's how I feel. I can hope that, one day, I won't see it that way. I can hope that, one day, I'll see it as just another leg of my life journey. Not right now though. Right now, the way I see it is that I just plain fucked up.

I trusted someone. I took a chance, and lost. ...and fuck heartbreak, I lost the damn pot I was, very securely, pissing in! I guess that'll learn me to put my heart over my head. I'll not do that again. Next time, they can give up just about everything they own, move a few thousand miles, put out a few thousand dollars, push away the people they care for to make me happy, give up the ability to take care of themself by believing my line of bullshit about how I'll help them out, put themselves in a position of being completely homeless without me... and I can just go on with my life, changing absolutely nothing, but allowing them in my home. Maybe I'll let them use a box to sleep on, until I can get them to a store to buy a bed, once they save up some money, after I say that I'll get a bed before they get there, and change my mind a week or so before they arrive. I have a bed, it's not my problem, you know. Maybe I can do nothing but complain, but then attack them if they dare utter a sentence which even comes close to addressing one of their issues... Maybe I can speak relentlessly of the partner I've not yet even divorced... Maybe my first ex can suddenly show up at the door... Maybe, once I stress them out so much that they end up sick, I can get mad at them for even telling me that they're sick. Maybe I can manipulate them with sex. Maybe I can go sleep on the couch because I don't like the way they're psychically pulling away. Maybe I can ignore them completely. Maybe I can get mad at them for wanting to sit and talk with me. Maybe I can treat them like a child. Maybe I can punish them, if they get angry, by not allowing them to get to a store or a laundromat. Maybe I can take their money, and monitor who they call, and make them walk to the doctor over 6 inches of ice while they're blind in one eye. Maybe I can snatch their medical records out of their hands and throw a fit over the confidential information I read in them. Maybe I can accuse them of risking my well being, because they told someone that they weren't just a stranger in town trying to write a fucking book. Maybe, in the end, when they finally break, I can get them to take care of me because of my poor broken heart... maybe I can even pull up some tears and doe eyes to make them think that they did something to me... maybe I can force them to pick apart my character, so that I can throw the words back at them later... maybe I can twist the whole thing around into what I'm insecure about, ignoring the truth, and say that they were running off to be with another person.

Fuck. Who am I kidding? I am who I am. If I love, I love, and when I love, there's very little I won't risk or give. I'll take another chance, because I'm stupid like that. I've done it my whole life.

I can only hope that, next time, the person won't be such a damn psychotic twit... or that maybe, before I lose too much, I'll see the whole thing for what it is... and I'll remember not to throw away my parachute.