Orange Blossoms
Is it possible to hate someone who isn’t even a part of your life?
Have you ever had something, seemingly insignificant, happen to you, only to discover years and years later - too many years- that it wasn’t insignificant at all? In fact, maybe it changed you in an irreparable way?
It feels like that.
I feel like that.
On bad days.
I want to wear a beautiful evening gown and stare out into the Pacific.
I want to tell all the positive-”life is so good”-fair-weather friends to go fuck themselves.
I want more time.
More time.
It’s rambling to so many, and perfect sense to little few.
I say I am taking it one nap at a time. So, false because it has nothing to do with the bad part of my life with them and everything to do with a map inside my head that leads across the earth and back again. Back again. Always leading straight back to them and a little yellow house.
They allow me to find joy in a time when everything else is a pillow over my screaming head.
I remember a time when Hamlet made perfect sense. Now, I can’t find the passage. I read over and over again. Nothing is there. No line belongs to me.
I am public because I CAN. It’s the only thing that can’t be changed. I don’t expect many to understand. But if you do, Thank you.
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