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WORK KEPT US ALL AFTERNOON and it was necessary, hardly work but painful tasks that leaped from our minds.

“Sometimes you have to do things you don’t want to do.” It’s going to be a long day and quietly, we took the curves and signs of the streets in silent strides. Maybe we should digress or wonder less, maybe park the car and sit a while to dry our minds of the negative things it’s inundated with day upon day and into next week. Let’s forget, okay? Let’s just forget.

The first step was under analyzing, the second honesty. I did them both—at once, in fact—and so well that I think—well, I know—I can do this. Keep on.

Underneath the ocean floor
A part of who we are we don’t explore
I adore
The meaninglessness of the this
We can’t express

For lack of greater, more original material:

And even more shocking, my mother is more torn up than me…

The Jackson Five must have played quite the defining role in her upbringing.

I miss this so much.

Still fighting it…

I ONCE TOLD MY SISTER A STORY, about a spider that lives in my room.

“I have a spider that lives in my room,” I said, “and I never kill it. I see it all the time, and just let it live in my room. It doesn’t bother me, and I don’t bother it.”

She quickly retorted, “Jenny, you’re stupid! Why…why would you do that? You know it’s probably not the same spider you’ve been seeing, but one of many. If you keep letting it get away it’s just going to have more spiders…”

I’ve come to realize how I live my life, letting things build up whilst being oblivious. Tonight I saw one small spider scamper across my closet floor—much smaller than the one I’d always let get away—and it served as a sign. Certain things in my life have gotten out of control, not just the arachnids lodging under my dresser drawers; things greater. I just choose to ignore them in hopes that they’re not as numbered, as petrifying, or not crawling into my mouth at night.

And so, it is time to kill my spider.

Happy Father’s Day, Dad, with love from Cruella de la “Jenny Marie!”

xo

I’ve contradicted myself long enough. It’s tough, better yet tougher, but it’s the best thing. And who knows, somewhere down the line it’s going to be the way it should, or just the way it can be. There’s a plan, somewhere in that bag, just for a lady that’s determined to exist as such.

But how many days have passed? And these threads, so tightly woven to my innermost workings, mind and movements, why? Why pass by and over thoughts so unavailing? And repeatedly throw myself against the wall, on the tracks, to the wolves? Who am I and what have I been doing this whole time?

So I will declare happiness on our lives. I want it and moreover, I’ve realized, finally — I mean it. Be free.