Replies
- Up From The SofaMay 5, 2013 at 5:50 PMI go back to the time when I was strong. It was me, not this weakling, shaking and sweating over the slightest thing. To be strong is my inner voice calling but I waver like someone afraid to go through the yellow light. I am law and order- like. I wait for green and red. That way, there is no room for trouble.
- Up From The SofaMay 5, 2013 at 6:02 PMI used to love to be weird. Just when someone thought they knew me, I would pull out a quirk. I am still crazy like that but afraid to show it. I wanted to blend in so fucking bad. I even wore blending in clothes like sweater sets. These are the ultimate in blending in clothes especially if you combine them with flats. You can go anywhere and be fine, especially if you can create conversation.
- Up From The SofaMay 5, 2013 at 6:11 PMI can create conversation but I wonder if people think I am weird. After I leave a place, does one person throws a spitball at another person's ear and before you know it, they have a garrulous conversation about the poor, weirdo who just left.
- AnonymousMay 5, 2013 at 6:43 PMsweater sets, huh? im in
- Up From The SofaMay 5, 2013 at 6:47 PMI feel so lonely like life is a dance where I push away and people push me away in dance steps that no one can follow. It is like people dancing the Funky Chicken or some other stupid dance the way people did in disco days especially if they wore polyester.
- Up From The SofaMay 5, 2013 at 6:49 PMOne of my boyfriends wore light blue polyester, top and bottom. If he had an erection, you could see it through the material. That is a frigging stupid material.
- Up From the SofaMay 5, 2013 at 6:52 PMBut all this drivel is really about death. I am afraid to die. It all comes down to that but I like to complicate it.
- Up From The SofaMay 5, 2013 at 7:15 PMI have a conclusion but it is a platitude. I hate when people throw platitudes at you like if someone shoved a Kielbasa down your throat. It is that much of an offense.
Up From The SofaMay 5, 2013 at 1:15 PM
You wish you could tear the suit of iron off you like you would the hands of an assailant whose arms were strangling you but there is no one there. You are alone with the many terrorizing voices but you can't answer them in a way that makes them go away. You may act loud and proud but it is an act and you know it.
Forgive the poor writing but this is how I feel.