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I posted a comment last night on a friends facebook post. It was rather funny. Her response was, “Rachel, you should blog….” and mine was, “I do… go check it. ”

Funny, I write over here, and sometimes i let people know I have posted something new, and sometimes I don’t.
Mostly I write for me, and then sometimes I am willing to admit that I write it for others to read, and sometimes I even enjoy a little feedback.

Got some of that too. I got a response to the piece on forgiveness that included the word Limpid… What a cool word, and when used to describe my writing? even cooler…

Again, I ask, what the hell is a blog. Well, it is a diary for the most part.
Most people write about the mundane shit that goes through their head, or what they ate last night.
My sister has a VLOG which is basically a video version of what I am doing now… shooting the shit with myself…

My thoughts are less mundane than the average diary blog, I think, but then again, I like to think I am ex,tr special. I am thinking about way more than what I ate last night, or the latest e-fad… but sometimes it is as simple as that.

I could try to play with more than the deep stuff, but that idea bores the hell outta me.

This afternoon, I buckled under a flood of tears. And I had no real solid idea of where they came from.
My beloved darling heard it on my voice and made the mistake of asking me what was wrong.
the combination of His caring, his being in my life in the first place, the current physical distance between us, my inability to answer his question, both because I had no idea why I was sad, and because I couldn’t say very much under the choking tears.

Been a while since I flat out cried just to release but maybe that was what i was doing.

I could blame it on many things; My lover is too far for me to touch, my son woke up mad at me, my cat is hobbling around and I think my neighbor may have violated him in some way, I just got my period, and I am tired. I feel violated by my neighbor, and I don’t even know if she hurt my cat, but now, my want to move to a new house feels like a necessity, and I need a million dollars to fall from the sky, It’s getting to be winter already and October isn’t even over,
Oh yeah, and I have had half a cigarette today.

I suppose it makes sense as to why I feel weepy.

Powerless is never fun.

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