I think about Dad and how I got martyrdom in the DNA
My Mon… a sociopath.
My Dad.. a martyr.
But don’t they feed each other?
I guess without feeding it …it starves to death and we define..
Our new way…in lieu of flowers,
Kindly fuck off I say…(to the programming of centuries).
To be the rock/evolvement of the lineages is the highest form of love. ️
Trust that.
I say.
The problem with fire is when feeling burn is the only feeling you feel is real.
I’ve become a foster hoodrat who has the unexplained capacity for nuisance that almost destroyed her.
Nothing they ever did ever mattered, but it did cuz it’s the mirror – the coke lines snorted from the blurry thumb prints ravished on the doorknob tho – not much to look at when we were kids.
I spent hours in the antique claw-foot tub with a glass of cheap Merlot and Billy Holiday – that was me at 22. Gloriously depressed and enjoying the evidence of where I was. Somehow I felt to do it. To be celibate – would I be a monk or where would I be? I felt it. The spirit. The calling. The something. I could never quite put my finger on or even quantify it. It just is.
 | JenJuice on A child (in the) hood….… |
 | pastwispers on A child (in the) hood….… |
| JenJuice on Jump Ship. |
 | JL on Jump Ship. |
| JenJuice on Raised by a Sociopath –… |
