Stevie Nicks - Dreams
But what if you stay dirty?
The assassins are terriers and won't let go. They've obviously been informed of all my tactics as they take the bait on nothing. It has become clear I need a refuge of love. But how? I've never had one before. I can't imagine I deserve one. Not even God could love me that much.
When a man's rent money is at stake, right and wrong go out the window. Somehow I've got to figure out how to use that pathology against the assassins. But since they know me - and therefore my guilt - their focus is on my guilt only which in their minds make their pathological devotion an asset. Fuck. Also, I've come to realize that since I have failed to take control of my life it has now been effectively handed over to them. Debby's the only person to ever examine me and like all things in my perverted life, something good has been twisted into something bad.
In my last posting I celebrated the possible demise of Debby and her high horse. Lording her fine house and cars and social status over me is a daily torment for me. I can't help but take satisfaction in her being taken down a peg or two. But this too has boomeranged on me. Sometimes I forget how much I need her and her downfall helps me not. But to be honest, I'm not even sure it would mean anything anymore to look into her eyes. What have we done?
I'm writing this now because a nightmare woke me up. Goddam day labor is killing me. I'm always stuck in somebody else's show as a bit player, standing on the sidelines watching other people live. I was on a construction site for some new hip sports restaurant or something. I was trying my hardest to learn how to lay down this tile and grout it but the effort was straining me to the limits because I just couldn't generate any interest. I'm trying to be a good citizen, I really am. Fact is, though, it's devouring me.
"These are the things I can do without."
The owners were an eccentric husband and wife team who were very aware of their position and often gave garbled or incomplete orders to us mere underlings to carry out. They then moved on to something else fully expecting you to have understood. And the culture on the site was that it was a great taboo to be lost or confused or undirected in any way - people with purpose only! Jesus, what a mind fuck. So it took all my wits to fight through constantly being lost and meanwhile I was surrounded by others perfectly content to be underlings and used by our high living owners. I just had to wake myself up.
"My back is broad but it's a-hurting"
So it's 2 A.M. and lonely man cries out for love but has none. What I do have is a throbbing boner and the worst feeling of being swallowed by an aching emptiness you can imagine. I hate being useless and my life a ridiculous joke, doing menial labor with an IQ always higher than my boss and yet I always contribute less. It's just shattering. I guess it was all or nothing for me in my life. Maybe I wanted it that way. What I do know is the guilt is killing me.
And the assassins are aiming to finish the job. Anyone got a clue?