This just came back to me. The other day I was talking about a day when I went off on someone. Let's say that just because he was a homophobe didn't mean he deserved what I was ready to do to him.

 

Most of the time, I can keep it under wraps. Since my early childhood, madness will overcome me if I am not careful. People who deal with mental illness will understand. Most of my issue is conditioning, not biological, though I do struggle with anxiety. And OCD. And some maladaptive daydreaming- LOOK, DO YOU WANT TO HEAR IT OR NOT??!

 

When I was an adolescent, my job was digging worms.

That is your warning that this one is gross. Apologizes.

 

It was gross and dirty, and as many times as they called me lazy and spoiled, it never made me any better at digging worms. That shit wasn't something they sentence prison laborers to, but whatever. Dark. It's two-o-clock in the morning.

 

Unfortunately, I cannot control when certain truths hit me.

 

Something broke, and I could see through the trip that this bait was taking to a watery grave.

Whatever took hold of me was quiet and quick. And evil. It was dressed in compassion drag, but it was evil.

The air smelled different for a minute, and my head hurt, but it had me.

I dug into the earth turned it up.

I grabbed the wriggling things. Then, one by one, I held them at the tip of one end and flattened them down to the other, making all their goo come out the lower end.

It went on for a long time.

Please don't start. I know. I KNOW!

At first, I dug and only did it to a few, and then it was more and more until finally my Brother came over (why the fuck are you so quiet) and began to panic then scold me.

 

When I took my Dexter slides to the Bait House to get my FIVE DOLLARS, Mr. Person tossed them around…. and, then…. on closer reflection, "These are dead."

I said, "So… You want to kill them." When he responded, I laughed and said, "Sorry… Sale them to be Killed." I was already gone.

Cuz you're so fuckin' proper.

I'm behaving.

My Father and Brother and Nowadays even my StepMother will sound off about how I never tried hard enough at that specific job. As if it were the same for me.

 

Not talking about sexual preferences,

what I am talking about

Is that I didn't exist on paper and would go on not (legally) until the age of nineteen. 

Which is funny because now it is all I have.

No, no. You had your turn to talk. We don't pretend our strong is incapable when we know he is not. IS WHAT we are not going to do.

 

You think it would be some super cool shit, but no, just some poor honky nonsense that never made anyone better in any way.
I still attended school and have records, but the name was always an issue.

 

But I'm Crazy.

 

 

I don't know, does PART of me wish I'd never gone to the Court and instead faked that sad bitch's death and started over someplace that is always cold, as far away from the American South both culturally and geographically as I could possibly be and ROCK some protective old queen's world until I died?

…………..

Insert incredulous laughter,

 

What would that even look like?

 

WHO THINKS UP THESE RIDICULOUS SCENARIOS????

FAQ.

I got to happy, but I love that they think I just wandered into it like a Zaxby's.

 

Why can't people treat you well while they have the opportunity?

Fuck that. I know I made things better by being around.

And not one person was ever nicer on account of that. Do they take it for granted?

When it hits you, it hits you hard.

Sometimes you have to choose to be happy yourself and to hell with anyone else especially if they are blind towards your needs.

You are a Gift. And You know that.

Welcome to Chantarctica.