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Q.f.D. (Not for the faint of heart)
message 5401:
by
Marley
(new)
Aug 03, 2009 05:35PM

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Oh, well that makes sense. I'd probably do the same thing if I actually wrote stories/poems/ect.

Haha!
That made no sense."
What didn't make sense? What I said?

Haha!
That made no sense."
What didn't make sense? What I said? "
No, my answer was weird.

Haha!
That made no sense."
What didn't make sense? What I said? "
No, my answer was weird.
"
Oh. It was.

I didn't even think I was getting presents since my party is in September and they're spending money on that. But I get presents tonight! -dies-
I'm extremely happy :)

lol, it's okay.
Thank you Lorna!

Thank you! :) You have given me a case of the happies!"
lol.


Okay maybe not funny, but surprising, ironic is the word maybe. I never could quite place the right words down. Another example of irony, a writer, who can’t ever seem to get words right? It’s not for lack of trying I assure you. The only true problem is I am being ambushed by so many feelings and never being able to translate them into phrases. Except once.
A long time ago I wrote as though my life was dependent upon that skill. Back then, words just poured out. I wish I could repeat that process now, because my life really does depend on it. “The rent is due soon.” Is written in twisted black letters, a post-it note reminding me that soon I will have nowhere to go. I push it out of my mind and type random lines at my computer, each seems to have a nice quality to it, but put together it is all non-sense.
At 9pm the phone rings, it is a debt collector…again. I listen as the voice admonishes me about my late payments. I let her words go right through me, at least, I believe it was a her, I really couldn’t tell you. I stare at a stack of letters, half bills, and half-credit offers. One on the top catches my eye, and I gently put the phone down.
I notice immediately the stamp boasting my mother and father’s address. It was pressed into the envelope in red ink, looking almost like blood, which is a very good analogy, seeing as whatever was to come would make me want to bleed. I open it anyway, taking in a deep breath.
'Dearest Callie,'
The torture begins.
'I have spoken to a few of your friends that have directed me to write you at this address. I have been so worried about you darling. Please come home. I am not sure what I did to deserve this.'
I however knew exactly what she did. She tried to tie me down and control me.
'Whatever it was, I’m sure we can fix it back in family therapy. We have to dear, imagine what people must think of our family since you ran off. You must come back. Father and I are willing to pay all your bills, for therapy and such.'
I don’t want to read on, I know I do not have the problem. I toss it down to the floor.
I will not go home. I refuse to step back into that hell-hole. You can tell me that I had it made there, I won’t believe you. Even if it means I can have proper heating again, that I never have to hear another debt collector, I will not go. I don’t care if I won’t ever have to eat ramen for weeks on end, you couldn’t drag me back to my sweet suburban home, and I WILL be independent.
The anger from seeing my mother’s letter forces out words, and to my utter disbelief, the words make sense again. I wonder how I could have ever lost this ability to spew out my feelings. A self-satisfied smile creeps up across my face. I look back over my work once more.
Oh yes, this will do.
I tear the post-it from its perch, stuck to my wall. I throw it into a box fashioned as a trash bin. In its place I tape mother’s letter.
A burning reminder of how hard I must work to keep up this “tortured artist” lifestyle.
Every time I see it, I can’t help but feel those words ambush me over and over, but now, I can put them into phrases that stick together and create my story, A story I am willing to share, and pray one day that I will.

i love it. wow. i have no words. i crave more. you need to write a full length novel so i can spend more time reading your post. it was awesome. omg omg omg. i wish i had more. *off to read ALL your writings*
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