myrtle

I feel like this right now.
Some things are good.
Life is good in general, things are good in general and it's christmas time.
I love Christmas time.
I've got a spooning friend who keeps me up at night.
I've got penpals that make me happy.

Some things are bad.
My dog died, he was family and I loved him more than I love most people.

So I'm home with my momma and dadda for the weekend.
All I want is Cleatus though, because he was bigger than me and I could lay beside him at night and he would keep me warm.
And I want Cleatus because I liked to hear him talk to me and tell me things with little whinny noises and head nudges that no one has ever said in words.
And I liked the way his lips spread out on the ground when he put his head down.
Dogs should not die.

Some things are bad.
My mind is starting to missfire.
Maybe you don't know, and maybe some of you do, but like everyone else I've got a bad case of the crazies.
And the muther fucking crazies come and go and sometimes they come with a vengance.
And they're coming right now, making me scratch the skin off my arms and haaaaalll-ucinate.
And there's really nothing I can do.
And I miss cleatus, and I miss my sister and I miss four years ago when I was happy and safe and warm.
Except I wasn't.