We lost a good friend to a heart attack last week. I'm still reeling and trying not to be negative, it's very hard. Too many family and friends sick and dying right now, I feel pulled apart and am having trouble being
*there* for some. That in turn makes me feel guilty, I lose sleep, and bang I'm using my cane.
I have so much to get caught up on in here that I think I'll just leave it and try updating the now and not the last year or two or however long it's been.
Some people just make it up anyway...hehe
I miss you Kevin, it just sucks the big one that you had to go so soon and some miserable murdering pricks get to go on for years on the gov't teat.
Going to my happy place.
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
This is where Corn girl learned to attempt to drown her inner alcoholic, to shut her the fuck up.
Corn Girl’s alcoholic has a great memory, she remembers every slight, every insult, every bad thing that ever happened, oddly enough she doesn’t remember the good times as much, she doesn’t remember being safe and warm and happy, playing with the G’s and Nana and Ray. Corn Girls alcoholic is a dramatic sneaky little bitch that has taken over Corn Girl’s body. A lying selfish sack of agony that Corn Girl can’t drown out, can’t get to shut up about it already. The alcoholic living in Corn Girl has no mute button, no sense of humor, no off switch and no time for anything but Corn Girl’s shrinking world.
I can picture her inside Corn Girl, a flawless milky white complexion with light blue veins barely visible, with beautiful shiny red hair and the white teeth that Corn Girl had as a teen. She’s laughing and swimming in the liquid alongside Corn Girl's youth and energy, her sense of pride and self esteem, her sense of the absurd. They swim in perfect synchronization, like Esther Williams and her girls.