igobymanynames

Note: yesterday still applies.

-Sometimes one is most naked when wearing a mask.
-What's wrong with her? "She's acting so funny lately. That woman needs a fucking therapist! Her make-up is runny and clumpy and her hair looks like it was cut with a hedge-trimmer! She gets on my nerves soooo much! I mean how old is she anyway!" "Can't you see, she just needs a mask that she can breathe through."

-Givers?
So I sit and I see you in your silence. Drawing from where that piece of beauty and support lies. I see and objectively criticize, invade your space with my questions but only lightly and to stroke your confidence. I wat for you to see or feel the necessity to live your life or at elast some serious discipline. To find a space here for your life and talents. But you do not listen. But you stay, unable to leave your life. The comfort of fearful stability. Why don't you see I am here and believing and opening doors? Why do you take what I give and then go and hide in corpse's position on the couch? It is enough that I want to spit on you, but that won't make standing and walking on my own any easier.

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As for me, showers are DANGEROUS. I managed to have a couple layers of skin torn off from my lower back yesterday. I will proably have a partial scar from where the faucet end pierced my skin. It feels interesting. Also, the inner child still needs yet another spanking.