I haven't written anything in a while, and although I have inspiration, at this very moment, flowing in my veins like a river, I am unfairly, unfortunately, doomed to stagnation, and I have a secret fear that someone, somewhere, has heard my innermost musing and will act upon it before I can.... Every time I have a new idea, someone takes it away, before I can write it myself; this is my own fault, for being such a procrastinating wench... so it is, in its own depressing way, universally, karmic fairness that plagues me so...
I am overwhelmed. School has started again, and it is harder now because I've been promoted, and so have less time to study. I am also recovering from an injury, --I am very clumsy, and when I fall, I fall hard, both figuratively and physically.
My ex-owner, --further back in lineage than the rest, has acquired a new "possession" as well as a new home, and I am jealous. Bitter... and I have to learn to have less regret for moving on, even though I went forward, I chose a very rough road, and it was full of obstacles and much suffering. It still is. I know it's childish and naive, cliche, also.... --I think it's cliche to point out that something is cliche too, --but I get in these moods where I think, "Well, Slave, look at you. Working, sleeping, going through the monotonous motions of survival, every day.... and look at what you cost yourself. Look what you gave up." ...and I turn, and I look, and I hate myself for looking and regretting.
Shouldn't I have found someone by now? Shouldn't someone love me?
I know, I know.... I'm difficult, and annoying.... I get complacent in my routines, and I can be incredibly obstinate. These are just a couple of examples of the many flaws that scratch and claw under my skin. I'm also not as attractive as I could be, because ... I have never had a reason to be. The most concrete reason I have for not losing weight has nothing to do with habits or health, --I'm a smoker, it doesn't matter how thin I am, because eventually, cancer will kill me dead as fuck. I don't stick with the weight loss thing because I have no one to lose weight for. My body, my face; even if I was more physically attractive, I would still be insane and I don't want someone with me because I'm nice to look at.
Someone recently said they believe I am an energy vampire; a psychic vampire. That I feed off of energy. I would be remiss in my personal integrity if I didn't say I haven't considered it, --although it sounds so tacky and flaky. It makes sense though; I need voices, visual stimulation, and I hate the quiet, unless like right now... when I'm reading, or writing.
I was conceived on the floor of a public bathroom. I was born in a hospital about ten minutes away.
I hate this town, because everywhere I look, I have a memory of a place where my mother either held me or hit me, and I hate thinking of her. Here, in this town, --I think of her the most. And although it seems contrary to my deepest wishes, each time I find myself in Lehigh Acres, FL, I have to go look at my old house on Gunnery. I can point out the place in the yard where my mother pinned me by the shoulders, with her knees, and forced my face into the dirt, grinding silt and sand and dirt and sandspurs into my face and eyes and mouth. I hate the people who bought our house because my mother was so proud of our yard, and we worked long and hard making it beautiful... We grew poisonous trumpet lilies near the door, we had two dogs, chickens, fish, rats, turtles, --for pets, and for livestock... I caught snakes in the tall grass and in the canal, and we rode four-wheelers all over a dusty, sandy nothing-land that was undeveloped and reeked of overgrown isolation and financial ruin. I love the story of Lehigh; it came into existence after some scheisty characters bought cheap land in southwestern Florida, and sold it at high prices to northerners as beach property. It was a great disappointment; the land was overgrown with palmetto, --which covers everything that isn't alive and moving, and developers have to set fires on their own land to get rid of it, which then smells of burning bacon, --wild pigs get trapped in the fires, and "cook" inside the palmetto labyrinths that were once a safe haven... I love Lehigh; there's crime, and disappointment is like perfume on the air, but I love it, because it's inspiring and beautiful in this perfect, desolate way that you will only find in areas of Florida that aren't overrun with idiot tourists and rich coffin dodgers.
I'm so thrilled to move back, and even visit with Sire, who is my dearest male friend, and the only good man left alive who loves me the way I need him to... without requiring anything from me. I have done nothing, and he has no condition to which I must strive or succeed in. I have worked for him, but only in a business sense. I have feared his wrath, and I have obeyed, and gloried in the opportunity to obey. I don't seek his abuse, and my heart bleeds to receive his slightest annoyance in me. This is perfect for me; I fear his disappointment in me too acutely to ever deliberately seek it, --which I have done in the way many women have sought to rankle, and annoy a partner. He is not my partner, and I am not his possession. We are friends, and it is.... nice.
I miss him, he's been gone for a while, but hopefully, he'll be back soon.
