Kurrs' Digital Tapestry of Words

Recently someone referred to me as being like a recovering alcoholic and the parable serves excellently well. I was doing so well, no matter how fucked up I was while I was dating Erin, things were still on the mend. In spite of all the stuff that was going on, I was sorting through it. People dying isn't something I do, it's something that happens around me, and everything else was merely old wounds healing. My little polyamourous gardener was good to me, even though it didn't work out.

But this summer, I slipped. My fear of am I just finding someone new to fuck me up, to fall into old patterns turned out to be valid. The difficulty lies in that these people are actually very precious to me, just as my fiancee was, but it doesn't mean they were good for me. I managed to find peace with my almost wife, Your reconciliation gives me great faith in the idea of forgiveness, I should be able to find it with anyone.

I can see the truth, but I can't quite touch it with my own eyes or mind. Through smoke and mirrors, tricking my emotions into stepping aside for a moment, I can see clearly. I like what I see, as long as it doesn't involve me. The instant I fall back into the picture, emotions of rejection, revulsion, frustration, and worthlessness wash over me as my filters show things in terms of not good enough and the weak are lesser. It causes me to define some as somehow fundamentally better than others. Let the fucking sheep live out their lives together, I'll live with the predators.

Really, what I am is hurt, and it will take time to go away.

Written On: Brother's Computer
Currently Listening: Postal Service (if you want it, lemme know, I've already put it up twice)
Currently Eating: Granola with Hemp Seeds and Bananas, Hippyrific