This was extraordinarily powerful.

I am a mother too.

I think there is something that doesn’t just change when you become a parent.

It revolutionizes you.

Every cell in your body changes. Morphs into this earth. You are instantly plugged in to an entire new compassion and concern, you know that we are all here to be loved.

Or at least I did. But I just feel like you get that. You’re marked. Different. Your heart opens up into a new world. The love is so deep that it’s frightening.

I have this thing with babies. It started when I was a kid. I just adore babies. But when I nursed my own, I became a mother to all. When i hear a baby cry, i have this need to make it stop, to protect them , to help them.. I can’t watch movies when babies get hurt. It’s seriously that bad. It’s so ridiculous too. I know it’s just a movie. But for some reason, it makes me feel so horrible that I just avoid it altogether. I think it might just be the fact that someone thought of it.. And thought it would be good for everyone to watch at the same time

Let’s have her kill the baby and put it in the oven

Just the thought that there are people who thought there are people who would enjoy that as entertainment can spin me out for an hour.

I digress.

When I read the first sentence about blood, my whole body responded. I went hot. Down to my toes.

The other thing that really stood out here was the humans. I have a love hate relationship with the humans. I guess I pity them a lot. Mostly I vacillate between frustration and pity.

Fucking strange animals.

Can’t say I understand or could ever come up with a good enough excuse for some of the shit they do.

The assholes.

There are the rare ones..

The ones that truly know morality. The ones that truly know love. They aren’t just projecting some distorted image of what they believe it to be… they fucking do it. They live it. They believe in it.

The brave ones.

The honest ones.

The magic ones.

John sounds like one of them.

It’s strange but I’ve never met one of them, that hasn’t known suffering. That hasn’t faced down hell in some way. Stood up and looked the devil in the eye and said fuck you.

You know why I would want to find him? Because people like that are also doomed to walk alone. They don’t have too many kindred spirits. The world is full of shit. He needs beauty, just like all of us.

And you are. You are beauty.


P.S, I’m no professional critic but holy moly. You can write. I’m almost positive an editor will find you and ask you to write the story. And I hope you do. I feel like you have to, for all of us.

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