Guestbook

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I was not good enough for you and you were not good enough for me. We were mismatched, unsuitable – we were wrong, but we were in love. I held onto you, embraced you in the darkness, clung to your bones, praying for salvation. It didn’t matter if we were wrong, I couldn’t live without you. You were the only one who could hold me together, who could make life seem less like death and more like a dream. I wanted to live. I wanted you.

I kept that diary as best I could and, once that one was filled up with kindergarten stories and doodles, I was gifted another from my other grandmother. I wrote in it until I realized there were some things I wouldn’t want to remember going forward. So, somewhere in the middle of that tiny book, the entries stop, leaving the reader to linger on some sad story about a drunken mother written from the perspective of a six year old.

If I love you then you’ve no reason to concern yourself with your worth, because I have stolen you from the masses and singled you out as something special. For out of every other living person, my eyes rested on your smile and your heart and I decided that it was worth losing a part of myself to love you. So, to me, you are valued as a piece of my spirit that I can never regain.

It’s been a while, my friends. I hope that those of you who celebrated Thanksgiving had an enjoyable one. Whether or not you celebrate that holiday, I hope you are able to find a few things in your life right now that you are grateful for. It has not been an easy year for me, but I still have a good few things still worthy of my love and appreciation. Of course, I am grateful to you, for your continued support and readership. You are few, but your impact on me is great.

The beginning of this year was hell. Between toxic and tumultuous relationships, real and terrifying threats to my very life, and the danger I posed to myself, I honestly didn’t think I would make it to the end of the year. I tried to kill myself early in the summer with that belief at the forefront of my mind. I survived though. I survived that and endured more and, somehow, at the peak of my agony, I found freedom.

I still think about you. Not often, but sometimes you drift into my mind like a piece of trash fluttering amongst autumn leaves. When you wander into my daydreams, trying your best to turn them into nightmares, I think about what you taught me.

One day a handsome and rich young man named Wu Fang was climbing in the trees near Chen Lien's home, looking for birds' nests, when he happened to look down over her father's wall, and saw the young lady sewing in her garden. Her good eyebrow was toward him, and he thought her the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. The more he looked and the more he thought about her, the more he knew he was in love, so that night he begged his parents to arrange for marriage to the girl in the garden. He begged them so pitifully that they consented. They sent for a matchmaker of the neighborhood, and after many gifts and many journeys back and forth the marriage was arranged.

This stallion looked quite strange. His nose was round and his tail could grip. Bananas were in his feed trough. Later it was discovered that he was a quarter monkey.

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test joe

this session was a waste of time

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