True, I may be lying. It’s my tagline. The thing is, I don’t know, and the blog is an experiment. Just because a door is open, doesn’t mean you have to walk into the room. You may come in if you are interested. I’m not “asking” you to, only inviting, like an open house, no rsvp required. Even though I have a need for attention, it’s not for yours specifically. I pay my therapist to pay attention to me. Everyone else is free to come and go. And then, even she is. She could fire me. Lordy, I hope not.
One of my difficulties has been the inability to feel. So it makes sense that some of my writing is too intellectual for you, as someone who feels so much. We’ve run into this conflict before. We took our traumas in opposite directions, perhaps. Writing “Sewer Comes Home” was very emotional for me, but you chose to poke fun at it. There’s a time for jokes, but I didn’t like that one. Sometimes you’re a bully. What could that indicate but a reluctance to feel (bring home) your own humiliation, the decimation, the filth — and ultimately, the tenderness of it?
Manic? Hmmm — never thought about that. I could write five or six of these things a day. I thought I was using great restraint!
