I’m sitting on a bench, softly crying, overlooking the Hudson. I woke up without any money, and I’m thinking about what a nice life my un-special friends have as I was “special” in the guru’s mind though I didn’t have a problem with that, HE was. Just the priority that became the priority, or feeling like I wasn’t thinking, quite simply, about my life as a real thing. I have a problem with a shaman, still, who still can be INSIDE my thought process with me. All of it gets better. I had a problem with how I was treated. The guru disrespected me from day one. My ex brought me into plant medicines incorrectly, he even admitted it. The guru felt he had a right to invade my privacy as a supreme being with superior psychic senses. That’s how he carried himself. A psychological thriller this one. But then, people aren’t always aware as to what is motivating their actions. It might appear one way, but beware of appearances. I wouldn’t make the same choices, again. So I made my choices, most definitely. Not the same girl. WHY — remembering these people — would I want to be?
I was not seen. I mean, I can see myself clearly now.
I’m weary and on guard if anybody comes into my orbit, it’s a real lesson, discernment; it truly is. What I came to learn is — I had to be real careful. But I’m not thirty anymore, a hot young thing? I feel like I look great, actually, but these men wouldn’t have gotten involved if I hadn’t been young, I don’t think. They would have kept their distance, I’m almost certain of it, besides, I wouldn’t have gotten mixed up - literally - with them if I were the person I am now. Even my cousins, now, that whole episode would never have happened. The second they said “that didn’t happen,” I would have been up and leaving. “Arriverderci.” We all know what that means, a firm and final goodbye. They would have changed everything because in fact, giving people room…isn’t always the wisest choice.
What about a house? This Hero’s Journey of the guru’s left me with nothing. I met false aide, not helpers, and be forewarned that YOU can only help yourself, so if you find yourself confused, “why is this happening?” That might be the cue to leave. “Why does this sort of always happen?” Leave. I hated that help shadow, hated all the esoteric psychic games with the Seth books thrown in I got wrapped up in. The one truth. It’s always the same. Just the utter inutility of me being on a Hero’s Journey because I was writing a book, psychic, Alexander the Great, according to the guru’s posture. Just looking at the Slytherin trying to help me, wishing I had gotten up that day, and said to myself, “I’m not sure if any of this is going to help me in life.” And I have to let that go, that I couldn’t recognize it.
I needed me. I know I’m not alone in feeling that way. It’s not the biggest deal — being a writer. I didn’t succeed. Nothing I did worked, not even France. That’s on me. In my heart of hearts, I never pursued what I actually wanted. I didn’t think I wanted it, actually, but on the other side, maybe I did. I would never suggest to someone to just move somewhere…I get angry I belittled myself, and I allowed myself to be belittled by others.
I have no money though and I had money actually but no one saw that I did, which I say, because some people seemed to assume because I knew where to buy clothes that I came from money. Which I didn’t. Or I was pretty. Another one of these points I don’t understand. Some people resented me because I inherited some money. Other people treated me like I was poor. But I was actually lucky, and the plant people didn’t see that I was bleeding myself dry. These people were not on my side, in fact. I look back and go, why am I doing this? It’s not just the plants as I didn’t do them that often, I think, but it was my whole life set up, and it appears so glaringly obvious to me now, and I’m younger than any of them. They were supposed to know better, theoretically. They were supposed to working WITH ME as I saw that they had clients? People they worked with? I think about my ex boyfriend, why did he bring me into this? The Slytherin wanted to do drugs, so whatever, and I don’t even care. I was not the person, Jesus Christ. Even thinking about these peoples beliefs about me. The psychic woman in this group never even told me that I was psychic. If I’m that psychic why are you, guru, speaking indirectly, giving me mixed signals, and why are you guys giving me drugs?
Imagine Jeffrey Allen reading this - my problem was that I was too psychic. I had trouble manifesting because I was too psychic. Someone hear me, please. I went through a shadow realm. And there is always shadow. Probably even the shaman would say, “yup, no one saw you, and I mean, nobody.” I wasn’t one to treat casually. The Chelsea was one of those shiny hooks to say — no. Just because this idea that I should use my money at all made no sense. No sense. “Get real.” Looking back, it’s easy to see a help shadow. It has nothingto do with ANYONE else.
I’ll keep figuring out ways to alchemize all of it. I believe in that, but I believe in sitting in it if that makes sense, to process it out not push myself to reframe since that will happen on its own. There is no rush. That, I think, takes care of itself.
I’ll develop a psychic character who uses walks through “life” on the phone with her clients. “Her methods are unorthodox but extremely effective.” Into a coffee shop, “you’re missing an important detail. You’re getting stuck in corners that are indulgent and unnecessary.” Ouch, the beans getting crushed, “you need silence.” The supermarket is my target.
So that’s one idea I have. “Hold on, my spirit guide Barbara Harris is interfering and needing to add a point as I also connect with the spirit realm to bolster my gifts. I want my clients to know that they are getting a whole experience.”.
“She’s a bit more direct than I am. He’s a loser. That’s what she thinks. I don’t know WHO he is, but that’s the message.”
Wow, they’d say, wow.
“I don’t want to talk about,” tapping my head. “What’s going in here.” Pausing, “I want to talk about what’s going on…” tapping my heart, “in here.” And drawing the lines of connection between us, “do you even know what that means?”
“We’ll take it slow.”
It’s true though, some people have never even felt their own heart. And why is that? This is part of why I want to turn this wretched period into something useful — why did I feel so invaded by the guru? Why did I feel so crazy in my heart? Is that because I opened up too much? I was manipulated, look, taking off my aviators, Angelica Leibowitz believed she was manipulating me for my own good as well, that she KNEW what the story was. She believed my father was a child molester because he started acting guilty. Okay? Nice detail that she conveniently erased when shit just got crazier - my mother’s breasts, etc., at her door.
As we say, “no worries.”
The joys of awakening.
Looking for a parent, just to have someone I could see eye to eye with — I was four. Not fourteen. I wasn’t even at that level of awareness and reasoning. Sure, I can speak as to what it was like to be four, which makes me laugh. I believed I knew what was going on, I believed I had a sense of what was happening, but that was disjointed.
What I do is give myself space to imagine what makes me happy, joke around, invent characters and maybe good ones, I can try out the fake psychic routine. I can imagine standing on the Oscar stage, making psychic predictions based on the shit I’ve heard about these people that’s just not true, not true at all. “And of course, the house I bought recently on Lake Como, I thank the Clooneys for reaching out to me personally to offer me first dibs on the, uh, house for sale.” Next, “there will be another sex scandal, most definitely.” I struggle with online public spaces because no one is actually there. It’s much easier standing on a stage and dealing with real people.
I was feeling so terrible this morning on a beautiful day, it’s quiet, leaves rustling, and I got nothing. I don’t feel like dealing with sunshine, if you would, or Instagram wisdom. So I’m going to be in my own corner, giving myself some space. There’s nothing wrong, thinking about my current mother, with feeling.
I’m ready to become an on-call psychic. Of course I am. A phone psychic…I’m at the hardware store as a Neapolitan psychic, you see. “Look, everything is so hard here, okay, the problem is so basic it’s stupid.” Staring at a pitcher to water plants, “hold..I do not attach to what I see, I allow the image to develop, these idiot amateurs attaching to what they see as if it’s that interesting.”
“I believe that your plants need watering simply.”
“No no no no, they need more water. Trust me.”
That makes me laugh. Or, was the government if you would unable to handle a joke?
The psychics are on my side, I believe. I’m getting a call, I knew it was coming, “this one.”
“Okay,” picking up, in the moment, “for life keeps going… regardless of what’s happening… sure, it’s a matter of urgency…”
“So you don’t know where you are…” looking around at some random stop in Queens. “I’m going to a party…”
“Good news.”
I never thought I would ever deal with hate, and I do now sometimes. I don’t know, I never wanted to feel this way. I never thought I would have to systemically get these plant facilitators OUT of my thought process. It helps to just say that. With the shaman, the main one, I’ve had to practically make peace with his presence in my thoughts. But I’m also conceiving of a psychic character that he might one day enjoy in the future, since the future writes the past, to the guru, and his mignon, that I should reach out to “future audiences.” I get it. A goddamn mess.
I don’t hate my parents actually, because they were ill, which, to me, sorry, was the basic point, not so much all the feelings that didn’t relate to me - meaning YOU, the other person got affected - they were ill. You know? WHAT was I supposed to do? Cry a river? Was it unfair? Look, taking off aviators, let’s take a trip to the courthouse. “This is not my story.” Maybe it could have been, I don’t know, but my parents were sick. And so, I seemed to have to come to terms with it, as awareness is the name of the game here, generally, and that’s it. It was simple.
If I went through an emotional experience after that. “Cool.” Obvious. Just go through it. Regardless of where one comes from, they have to be able to get through it. You know? Not treated like some special thing, like a divine being, even, as this guru called me divine, literally, and full of potential to become amazing vaguely. Or, because I came from a sex scandal. Unclear. Or I was full of talent in which direction? Hilarious to me. So, I would say, “you are amazing now, here,” if all that is necessary? You see what I mean? I didn’t get this guru’s approach. Was it necessary to conquer the world? In a sense? To become “the great man? The writer?” You know, looking at all this with OPEN eyes?
A real wiseman might say, “wow, I’m so taken by you. I respect you, so much, I can’t wait to see what you do…” and leave it at that. But he can’t SAY that, because it would require revealing himself. Which he cannot do. He can’t be honest about his feelings. “You’re special,” he said, over an I-TANYA DVD, “you cannot disappoint me.” Isn’t it a lost DVD? I look through time, of course I do, at instances where I tried to show up for someone, and this seemed to tell me — don’t do it. That relationship confused me so deeply. I felt like I had hard lessons to learn, and I’m the one who paid the price, if you would. I thought some of these relationships I got into the past decade felt unfair. Just, at the outset? Like you’re pointing at me across a room? Telling me what life is about? Or, you’re giving me drugs… when you know you’re doing something sort of risky? I’m fine, now. I realize I made decisions.
So that sucked. Is your boyfriend supposed to be your sort of therapist? No.
The psychic thing was SO unnecessary. Giant stop. No. I am the authority. Not you. Them. My ex. I asked him explicitly to stop with the psychic shit. “I disagree.”
I do hate the guru but more so I hate myself for getting involved with someone so crass, insensitive, and unsafe. I always find the other side. Always. It took an hour. I dislike being corrective, I dislike speaking like an instagram post. I really had to sort out my head, heart, my, uh. You know. That’s why called a specialist - that’s what my friends don’t understand. That was crazy. It was hell.
He wasn’t self aware at all. He wouldn’t have done what he did if he were. So I write often, it’s all I have, and all I want is money, I don’t even care about the book.But, you know. I thought I was smarter than that, so I guess I can be smart now. I’ll keep on establishing goals and keep working to meet them. A house, a man, I don’t know, vacations? I might not end up with a house on Lake Como, or something, but I don’t know, I don’t know what made me great, actually, why these people got involved, honestly. I have no clue. What made me so special? Gifted? Beyond the psychic stuff? No offense, at times, it felt a bit like, a way to keep me involved. If you think about it, during integration, how am I going to APPLY that to the outside world?
It felt belittling. At times, I might have put on a nice show. I don’t give a fuck.
Did that sex scandal make me special? Because that’s what it was. A little sex scandal. “You are divine,” literally the guru said, “because you were born to parents who weren’t really there.”
What kind of comment is that? He finally threw out book title number 6, and why was that necessary? It was Extraordinary Men, and I acted like a fool, a holy idiot, which was my proposed title, and what was wrong with it? “Not bad,” he said, “what about…” He sent me down a psychopath, for NO reason, I mean, I would NEVER do what he did on the other side of the line. Never. The red flags were waving if not slapping my face. Holy Idiot.
“I think I know what I want my life idea to be,” imagine? That’s what I said at that point when I was in so much pain in my hips I almost passed out.
“Extraordinary men.”
“Well first,” he said, what a disgusting man, “you have to become the extraordinary man.” Why was this NECESSARY???? Then, that fictional character somewhere in this mess, is a really good psychological device, and words aren’t my primary form of communication. That’s what this guru said. He felt I could rise to “greatness” in the way Trump uses that word, “make America great again.”
But now I guess I could, so time to whip out the phone and start posting to social media about it. Truly speaking, I would NEVER do what he did. What I did, that was an harrowing abyss. I was shocked at this man.
I feel like I’m in Babette’s Feast where the young soldier confronts that there are some things in life that are impossible because the preacher’s daughter - a cult leader - will never love him. Their relationship, impossible. So he decides to succeed in the world to understand in the end that it was all for vanity though he discovers that’s not exactly true. My favorite character. He’ll come to find that some things in life are possible, at the end of his life, or later on, a moving reversal of concept.
The guru makes me want to become a decorated man so I can incinerate him. All these characters I met, I’d like to embody, even, for the full range, too, since that’s what makes a good character study. The world is vast. I think, on this bench, for the moment, I’m going with, a relationship is not my sole responsibility. Isn’t that what couples do, share? Something. Call each other out on their shit? I like “reality happens between us,” that one for me — that makes sense.
“Look,” as the phone psychic, walking up the steps, “how many times do I have to tell people,” you know, “I can’t see the goddamn future because there are so many, and it might be like an uphill climb right now…you’re tired, you’re exhausted. You made stupid decisions. Be real. You need to begin at step one in order to move to the next step. Sure, tomorrow, Alan Jay Lerner’s helicopter might whisk you away to some goddamn yacht, but you gotta move forward. Continuity is bullshit. Sure. You still build over time. I hope for you, as the psychic talking to NO ONE in reality on the other end, I am only pretending, as you are me, and I am you, that something amazing will happen, like a shot of lightning, of course, will strike, like Babette, she wins the lottery, you get an opportunity, but I think most people listening to me would go, wow, that’s a lot. But there are many windows and many buildings and you could end up in any one of them.” Sure.
“Where you go from here, there’s a story for everyone,” it’s really true. “People have lost everything, made it back, um, I’m sorry, quite simply, that you had a rough time…” so I’ll just take a moment to take a breath. I’m supposed to look on the bright side, but that was never my problem.
I never expected to be this person because I thought everything was going to work out, that wasn’t a problem, and yet, nothing did. Luckily I have some savings, it’s just I don’t have much left, and I haven’t been able to even get lucky. Like the Korean revolutionary, he like invested in crypto and made 200k. I invested - with the same guy - and I lost all my money…when the wiseman would have said “don’t do this.”
You see, the guy who brought me into plant medicines — he was an ex, and Jesus Christ, did I look like I was ready for a relationship? But of course, the GUY I got involved with, everyone saw that. Not the time. But no one extended me the same courtesy or understanding actually. NOT the time. Forget that guy, I have NO idea why I even went there? Ridiculous.
I needed just ONE clean exchange. Just one. Not mixed up.
So I wish I never got involved, but it’s easy now, saying, look, I don’t know what happened back there anymore, if there was abuse there, and both my parents were mentally ill, ill, so I’m not sure if I should take medicines… isn’t that fair?
Couldn’t do that. “Tell you all about it when I have the tiiiiime,” Aladdin. My man. “Make way for Prince Ali,” Barbara Harris the genie, lol. “Make way for Prince Ali…” and of course, she’s playing all the characters and getting Academy Awards.
Wow, just wow, if I felt psychic, honestly, I might have had my moments, that might be different. If I ended up in a profession that was successful rather than hearing “you have a hard time manifesting because you’re psychic,” if I had cultivate a real relationship, you see, that would be different. But I didn’t. This way made me worse. Now, if that means that I was not AWARE — MAJORLY, of my past, well, I should receive nothing BUT understanding. But none that mattered to my so-called friend, ex, the fact that the psychic routine was harming me. If anything I did led me… to psychic balance, emotional balance, I wasn’t imbalanced previously. No, literally.
I’m wiser at 39 than any of these people, but I’m looking at myself, obviously. So I suppose I can try to imagine a story in which, Jesus Christ, I met all my demons, I lost everything, but I’m fine, sure, and I might have been cyber attacked, abused somewhere, and misjudged and misunderstood completely. But I turned that around. I’m better than ever, etc.
It was time to wake up. I came from where I did, again, it wasn’t the story to get panties in twists about. Go to foster care if you care about the “issues” so deeply. Invest some money and care there—that’s to the guru, there are plently of DIVINE beings there. Pointing at ME the first time we hung out like that was weird. Not appropriate. Didn’t have that awareness.
This other sort of male mentor I had in my 20s thought I was trying to relive my years abroad with my father. Exhausting. He had dementia the whole time, to begin, so these were unpleasant years, they were full of confusion and pain. But whatever this MALE- older MALE motif I had — needed to be eliminated. Mixed up. I can’t even go there conceptually because of how insensitive and even mean these men were. Our friend in common even said, “that was an unhealthy relationship,” so why would I go back? There was nothing healthy about it. He reached out to me recently - like kicking open my door after ten years, our relationship a tense strain most of the time. Throwing around “I love you” at me, didn’t even say, “how are you, you were in the hospital?” No gentleness at all. No love at all. I mean truly.
In general, there’s no real care if you go through anything mental health related, okay, trauma included. No one will see it. They will only see: MENTAL HEALTH as a phrase - some blockheaded phrase that they are experts over. In some cases, you know, the shaman did tell me this. “Forgiveness doesn’t necessarily mean you need to get back into a relationship with them.” I’ll take that. You see, on the most basic level, would I want to be in a relationship with my parents?
No.
Wouldn’t that question be understandable? What a mess.
Honestly, in looking around these buildings, as my focus changed, I’d like to experience how far I could go, experience buying a house, wishing I had followed Common on instagram sooner in all seriousness. Kept my cash. Said “you’re a weirdo” to the guru, gotta go, I wish I called Sam and said. “Listen to this shit.” And I wish I followed COMMON on instagram encouraging people to become homeowners. That’s what I’m talking about. I would have, with a shaman smile, taken some distance from my closest friend, because LOOKING CHIC is sort of bullshit, owning a home isn’t. Again, my choices. It’s not the amount of money I spent. It’s a direction thing. You’d be surprised. I was in fact lucky. I had some capital, you know what I mean? I didn’t LACK anything, for the love of God. BOO HOO, you see, that’s me the psychologist. “BOO HOO you. BOO HOO. Go around and say BOO HOO until you start laughing.” It’s amazing, because I wasn’t aware, I didn’t actually feel that way, but I got all wrapped up, and now that my boundaries are in check, NONE of that would have even happened. Would have been fine. BOO HOO — BOO HOO — too much specialness, coddling, and too much “she came from a story” that became “she’s psychic.” That’s exactly what it was.
But hopefully I will become a star, lol. Hopefully I will rise in the ranks - somehow - as the MOST TALENTED PERSON IN A HALLWAY. As the X-MEN, the real protegee of Professor X in a goddamn helmet that isn’t fastened. “Doo doo doo,” singing the ditty, on a skateboard and Birkenstocks. I’m fighting invisible enemies. “Doo doo,” singing the ditty dancing down steps. The shaman would laugh, I think. “Very good work,” he’d say. “Doo doo doooo do do…” in an apartment building. Checking in with Common’s Instagram, “Japan, nice.”
“Do do,” I’m still going, down a hall, punching down, singing the X-Men theme. Look, man, a clown’s work is a clown’s work, and my Russian mother would nod, nod regally, “this is true, very true.” She, too, is “a light being…” in her words.
Maybe there’s hope, afterall.
I might need to work on all these character sketches, especially the poor man’s X-Men, but it could work. That excites me. It was a bit too much…looking at Barbara Harris’ picture.
I made a choice to not want to succeed in the world, you see, and now, I’m like, “why????” I didn’t care, I really didn’t like all this stuff, and I walked right into it, the second I thought, okay, let me try writing, it’s so true, about myself. That story was tough to shake off. And look man, my father was a total wreck. Denied dementia AFTER the sex scandal??? Looking at ME disappointed because I don’t want to talk to Angelica? This is…the woman who brainwashed me. And then sprinkle in some other mothers unaware of all of it. Oof, that one was a tough one, because, in a sense, I had to assume the position of a parent, and sitting there in all these living rooms, “what exactly is going on?” Right? There are two feet, they are yours, and you gotta learn how to use them, regardless of where you come from. I wasn’t a toy, or an unreal person, I can’t help that I form attachments, that I am supple, that I am a person. So — think about that. Only because “help” is one of these extremely tricky ideas, like there are PAPERS written about it.
“Do do do do…” the X-Men. Walking down empty corridors in a cloak. “The Assassin’s Creed.” So I might have some fun. You shouldn’t take ideas like that too seriously, I think. My mother was a Joker, she really was, and I had to make peace with a real villain, was she always, was she in fact? I don’t know what to say… but I sort of had to embrace that, and think, oh, maybe I could play a villain, and that would be even healing. So that’s what I did when I was on the floor of a goddamn hospital with so MUCH going on in that area of my body, that I was like, wtf is this? I felt like I was going to give up. But then, I saw the Joker, and I thought, oh, oh wow, she was such a Joker, and I could maybe work on that one: a Joker. Me. Hilarious. So I got up, and I got through that night. I don’t know what that means, you see, and no, I didn’t need friends who confused me further.
I wrestled with that lie so terribly. And all I needed, really, was someone to say, “are you feeling stuff down there,” and I would have taken it from there. And of course, that would have changed EVERYONE’S REACTION — we just thought you…just went through a mental health event, and I still would have stopped being friends with all of you. That’s basically it. Too many lessons. So again, I don’t know what the body of this is, so I’ll figure that out. There’s probably a support group, something.
Today, I could have walked into my first DIOR store, you see, and went “okay, uh I’ll get a fucking bag.” I made it. Now, I can’t even barely afford rent. It’s fine, you know? When you feel a bit too short-sighted? Because I’m only 39. I’m laughing. I’ll be fine, but I made my choices and I met enablers - for sure. I canned all the clothes, DISPOSED, shivering away from my mother, because clothes became my thing, which is fine, but they ended up being kinda all I had, in terms of possessions, you know what I mean? Like I was lugging this closet around. I didn’t find it charming, cute, or magical. I was watching myself… what is this? Who are you doing this for? You know? Sure sure, let your professor call your mother a fucking sargeant. Give me his number. I am the Head of the goddamn PTA.
So many ideas, rich rich character ideas. A military man is behind me, by default, very tall. “People…”
So a parent might be able to relate to me right now that I had a fucking headtrip. You know what I mean? Some girl - me - who was acting all over the place. Ever have one of these convos with your kids???? Like, what are you doing? I raised you better than this, didn’t I? Well in my case, no, so. “I wanted to go to weddings child, make alliances. I wanted fortunes to grow not diminish. I wanted to see you get awards. Not uh gurus.” Leaving church, with a husband, “sure sure the possibilities of it all.”
I have to laugh.
Sometimes I get so terrified about where I am. And that shaman— so he still can be so “sticky,” according to the Korean revolutionary which is, like, this was much more than I needed, so I have to use it since he comes to the forefront of my consciousness when I process all this, sometimes. I have to use it, I have to make a character to just get this guy out of my system. I have problems when I think, sometimes. It gets better, um, but it’s really really annoying. The guru — these people, it sort of felt like they took over, type deal. So I had to work them out. For the most part I have, I just did, by mocking, using, doing something with it.
If it turns out, which I don’t know what to say, that these couple of people I wanted to get my money back from did actually send me that message at 5 AM, AFTER I asked for my money back, and the guy farted on the phone at me after I got out of the hospital, our friend in common even confirmed he could treat people in unspeakable ways, um, he couldn’t have picked a better time to do it as I was processing all this. With the GURU saying I called it in from the ETHER to deliver “the final blow,” imagine? WHY? The FINAL BLOW? When this guy had no awareness of himself. The thing is, with these money men, why was it necessary to have someone facilitate the exchange of money? And I mean, if it were me, I would ask, “I do not understand why you’re scared, I don’t understand why you’re acting like this. WHY am I necessary? Why do I need to accept the money for you when I have Breaking Bad reruns to watch?” Why was this necessary…if it wasn’t true? Why was a middle man called in? “Why are you freaked out?” Why wasn’t this asked? Instead, all good, normal, didn’t want anything to get…out of hand…
“Uhhhhhhhhhh me too.”
Sounds a little guilty.
All I did was write an apology email. Odd. Sure. But weren’t we friends? They never responded to the apology email. They called at noon. And I said, call you back, and I didn’t. And all they had to do was say, “cool, hope everything is alright, you sent a weird message, as if something happened, and we’re confused, but just let me know where to send the money…” but instead, HE called, a middle man, acting as if there was nothing strange about being freaked out. “What is going on, actually?” He didn’t ask that. “Why am I on this fucking phone call? I have better things to do. Why are you freaking the fuck out? I’m confused.” But all I did was write an apology email. That’s it.
Again, I’m not the same person, I wouldn’t have been here from STEP ONE. Everybody’s got good intentions, really. I’m just saying that based on how they reacted, I don’t know if they sent that message or not. And then, that long and hard fart after I got out of a hospital. Unreal. And the thing is, I can just reverse it. Whatever hatred that is. Which wasn’t deserved. I came from a background, and that guy should be ashamed of himself, he can deal with it on his own. The Slytherin. That was a weird phone call. Again, I think, what I don’t get, if it’s true, why do it if you don’t want the person to know? Because…? And again, I don’t know if that relates to anything, but I did receive that message physically in my stomach. That took years. I still have stomach stuff, though it’s light. And is there plants mixed up, I don’t know. I went through a specific bodily event.
So that was a doozy. Was I abused somewhere in there? The specialist and I will… unpack all this. What a nightmare.
Anyway, water under the bridge, could have died, in some capacity. But who cares, right? Life and death, no worries, the line is arbitrary, the guru said, which is… not true. Death is very real. The military is behind me on that one.
Another day, another way. I’ll be fine. I keep sorting my head, stomach, heart, and sort of thinking that I might “just make it after all…” with my X-Men persona. Soemtimes I wonder if they did it, because of how weird our friend in common acted afterwards. I don’t know. But the specialist thinks that they did it, basically. So, I don’t know what to say, but regardless, that didn’t go well at all. I deserve that. I deserve to be happy, succeed, and a life with real love in it. To sort out that tension in my stomach.