So, today, woke up with pain once again. Doses of anti-inflammatory drugs. No good. Well, okay, by about 1 or 2 I was back under control.
But that isn't important.
So, September 15th is the three year anniversary of me being alone. My sadness is less, though the nightmares continue.
Watching Becker all afternoon.
I see people who love each other. I see people who have friends. I don't know if I'll ever be anyone like that. I don't feel that there is any love left in my heart. Oh, I still enjoy giving to charities. I still enjoy nature and animals. However the type of love that a man and woman have for each other, that type of love, I think is lost to me.
I remember those feelings. She was the best of all of those that I had loved before her, I still long for that, that feeling that I can only partially explain, and that I don't want to because so much pop psychology these days espoused by the illiterate intelligencia of this country, the elite educated by Hollywood to never look beyond their own noses, they would (if any one of them reads this) pick me apart and tell me how screwed up I am... Okay, yeah, I knew I was screwed up, that's the point!
So. If you think Che Guevara was a Great Man, or if you idolize Hugo Chavez, please, please, please don't write back!
