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Writer’s Block…..I don’t know if I can do this.

April 7, 2015

I’m not sure I can write here anymore. I still need to write. I have been writing. But not here. I’ve been hiding it. Something’s changed. Too many people in my head. When I start to chronicle some minor update or spew my irrational, hyperbolic feelings, I find myself stopping. I’ve lost some of the annonymonity I required.

It’s lost its healing properties. The digital pages, once obscure, unknown, secret and fun have become damning testimony for my trial.

There was a veil of separation. There was me and then there was these stories. It was truth, but my own truth, my secret truth. A truth to be expelled and forgotten. Voiced and heard before the skin grew back over the wound. The words are coming back and scratching at the stitches.

 

Oh, fuck.

Nevermind.

I don’t what the fuck I’m talking about.

 

Ok, so I gave Mr. Moon a bottle of wine for his birthday and then we talked about all the stuff that happened between us and then I e-mailed him and told him we shouldn’t be alone again and then he walked me home from the Moon and he was weird. Cold and distant. Then I brought up that he was weird and his response was weird and I got mad for no reason. Because I don’t even know how I want him to be around me. And then he showed at a party I went to to try to forget about him. I brought a bottle of Bouza for the host. Mr. Moon and I drank it and he was funny and charming and I hate him. And then it was HOLI and it was amazing. I took photos and had the time of my life and he was there, too. And he was happy and fun and laughing and dancing and he had the birthday Bouza with him and we drank that bottle too.

And he’s been over at #5……again. Shared meals and watching Seinfeld while I work on photos and I’m around him like the bubble boy. No touching, Guard up. Super careful. Just a friend. Not too much eye contact. Don’t stand so close to me.

He’s leaving in May. He has a Lafayette bucket list. I’m going to help him with his bucket list. And then he’ll be gone. Just like the other one. Except not at all like the other one.

I’m falling in love with the wrong people.

And I don’t know if I can write about it here anymore.

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From → Rantings

7 Comments
  1. In my situation, I wasn’t comfortable writing about some things on my blog because I didn’t want “my people” to know what I was doing because deep down I knew I was wrong.

  2. I love reading your stuff. I am currently struggling through a mess myself and you make me feel not so weird about it. I hope that doesn’t sound bad, but between the new “guys” and the ex-husband I still sleep with my shit gets awkward!

  3. Kitten permalink

    That’s awesome. Thank you. I don’t know what you mean by mess. I’ve got it so together. lol
    Now stop sleeping with your ex-husband. No good can come of it. But what the fuck do I know!

  4. LOL! I know it, no good comes from anything with ex in front of it lol, I was unsure if the email thing was for me or not.

  5. Kitten permalink

    it was. I have a site you might be interested in but I don’t want to put it here.

  6. I emailed you but never got anything…

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