I've tried everything to avoid writing an entry this morning, nothing has worked. I must have fallen asleep at sundown, or just before. I awoke at 0am but couldn't sustain it. I have been having nightmares, the worst that my mind can conjure. I'll leave no record of it here. They are unrepeatable. It is a bad and black magic to invite them further into this world.
Facebook is a very curious app. I can see who is awake, calculate location, determine shared timezone, assume that they are up to trouble. I don't really spy on people, but it's impossible not to notice who is active at 2, 3, and then 4am and then stalk them. I want to reach out and joke but who knows what state of psychedelic intoxication they might be in, naked and confused, on the verge of tears.
I have been told that I need to stop writing about my failed relationship here, that I have lost a very valuable reader. This particular patron of the site says that they don't mind it so much when I'm being funny but they can't stand the attempts at seriousness. Sustained thoughtfulness is too much for them, and where they draw the line, you see. They do not care for the exploration of a certain condition outside of their own.
This news wouldn't have been so bad if I didn't agree.
Get it over with!... is their easy advice.
Other people's lives can be so burdensome and problematic.
Rhys has started telling me that he doesn't love me. He has discovered his newly found power to choose, and ways to use it. It is what we have encouraged him to do, though I did not quite predict this as a potential outcome.
Here is part of a brief conversation we had this morning:
I love you, Rhys.
I don't love you, Daddy.
Yes you do.
I know.
I have been told that I need to stop writing about my failed relationship here, that I have lost a very valuable reader. This particular patron of the site says that they don't mind it so much when I'm being funny but they can't stand the attempts at seriousness. Sustained thoughtfulness is too much for them, and where they draw the line, you see. They do not care for the exploration of a certain condition outside of their own.
This news wouldn't have been so bad if I didn't agree.
Get it over with!... is their easy advice.
Other people's lives can be so burdensome and problematic.
Rhys has started telling me that he doesn't love me. He has discovered his newly found power to choose, and ways to use it. It is what we have encouraged him to do, though I did not quite predict this as a potential outcome.
Here is part of a brief conversation we had this morning:
I love you, Rhys.
I don't love you, Daddy.
Yes you do.
I know.
.
