Saturday, July 4, 2009

Born on the Fourth of July

I called you today, and you didn't answer, so I didn't leave a message either, I suppose you could look at the caller I.D. and you would know I had called. I hope you have a great birthday, and its everything you want it to be. Instead of answering, God knows what you are doing. I am moving on, Constantly. I am doing what I supposed to do. I realize, slowly, I am doing just fine.

I know what I have to have in order to survive. I have to be outside. I have to hike. I have to cling to my friends. I have to clean up the farm. I'm actually quite a bit better.

My week, has been so shaky. Not what I imagined my mood to be at times.

Emotional. It's allowed.

I have to allow myself to let go. I have to turn my phone off.

I have to be untouchable.

I have a method to my madness. Even if you don't ever fully appreciate it.

Not you, Ang, or Sue, Josh, or even you, Ben.

I realize, I have to try. Even when, I am emotional. Even when, it hurts.
Even when, it feel just right.

By the way, I feel just right. In all the downright, let down. Anger. Remorse.
I feel better. When I cry, I am actually letting go. I view the full honesty of the scope.
It is what I need to get by.

I cry for freedom.
I care for it like a child.
I wait for it with open arms.
I adore my madness.
I appreciate the utter majesty.

Woulda, shoulda, coulda, has yelled at me. I ignored all 3.
They have no use for me.

I long for the pioneer days, or even cavemen days.
Where freedom, was limited.
Where freedom, was actually a true statement.

We are all repressed, in our to do, doing-just-fine, bullshit.
The addictive side of me, is dangerous right now.

I long for chemicals, that set me free,
and let
Freedom Ring.

Clean breaks are easier,
you should be let go, I imagine you in a category,
that should only be limited to one person in my life. (history)
In the friend category, at least,
(this is where it is broad)
You insult the way I even imagine life is. (my life)
His drive?
Is horrible.
Because, my feelings are hurt.
(Paula, read closely, your feelings, have been hurt)
He doesn't even bother to walk the line of friendship.

(here it is.)
No one should worry about being accountable for my feelings.
I am the only one, who should ever worry about those.

It is cute, when, you tiptoe.

I know my emotions, so well, it would frighten the average man.
I know, what, I am emotionally available to handle.
To weather.

My track record hasn't been so clean.
Again, you have hurt my feelings.

And those words, are very hard for you to hear, and stomach.
So say it out loud,
say it to yourself,
but understand,
You, have hurt my feelings.

If I have to face my emotions, my battle scars, my wounds, my scars.
Shouldn't you have to?

Eye for an eye?

I will watch you as you lick your pathetic wounds.
It's barely a scratch.
You have made me pretty angry.

I can, only bear friendship,
and its precious you would think any further.

I, am about as available as an Angler fish.

I can stand it, though.

You thought you were the only one who could be hurtful.
(i didn't mean to.)

My intention, was, to get off the phone first.
All I want, is conversation,
(you misconstrue, as chasing nuts.)
But, to take care of business.

I wish I had someone to take care of me.
It should make you sad.
It should bother you.

You, have always, let me down.

Happy Birthday. This is your present.

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