outer-jessie's Diaryland Diary

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I can go without a mattress

Do you remember when I didn't have a bed? No of course you don't, you weren't here and you didn't know me then. But I didn't have a bed for...hm, I don't know how long it was, maybe somewhere from two weeks to a month. When I left home on Cape Cod I had very little. I felt like I was escaping. I was really doing something more like running away. I had been back from the biosphere for three months, I had just accepted my job here in Cambridge, and I had just broken the news about Rob and my secret three-year-long affair with him to my parents. It made my mother sick. It made my father scream. It made me cry. It still makes me cry. I hate crying about real things.

I'm not sure who needs to forgive who at this point. I'm still angry about a lot of things. I can feel a fuck you coming on. I told you I was still angry. I'm angry that I let someone tell me that I couldn't love someone, I'm angry that someone told me that I could choose Rob but that meant saying goodbye to my family and my education, I'm angry that when I chose all of the above I was told that I had cheated the family out of money, I'm angry that this makes me want to call my own father a bloody bastard and tell him to fuck himself.

It's not pretty. And that's only the synopsis.

So yeah. Once upon a time I broke the news and took all my worldly possession to a new place where there was no bed. I slept on the floor and didn't mind at all, except that it threw my hips out of whack. That's what they get for being so pointy. It was hardly the worst storm I had weathered, furniture wise. I used to sleep on a box spring in a bed frame in a drafty house with no heat in winter. I can brave any discomfort, if I have to. But I'm handling this rift between me and my parents less than well.

I came on here to tell you about the bed and look what I stayed to report. Sometimes my spirit leads my mind. On a stick. With a whip in one hand.

5:02 p.m. - 2001-09-28

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