Seventy Times Seven

"Am I more than you bargained for yet
I've been dying to tell you anything you want to hear
Cause that's just who I am this week
Lie in the grass, next to the mausoleum
I'm just a notch in your bedpost
But you're just a line in a song

Drop a heart, break a name
We're always sleeping in, and sleeping for the wrong team..."

"Trade the truth in for a lie, cheatin' really ain't a crime..."


Never really understood this til just now. Always liked it, though. But now I get it.

I hope you find this, K-Dawg. I hope you find it, and read it, and know what I've done.

I wish I could say that I feel really bad. But that would be a lie. I feel nothing.

I wish I could say that this will never happen again. Though I can't see the future, I'm pretty sure that would be a lie too.

I wish I could say that it's out of my system. But I know this is only the beginning.

I wish that when you do find this, you come to me about it. It's killing me.

The saddest thing I've read in a long time.

I've gotten back into books lately. I've always loved reading, but haven't been able to find the time. Since starting to have seizures I've been using reading as a de-stressor. I don't find time for books, I make time for them. No matter what it takes. They're just so much more relaxing than most everything else I do. I recently finished one that I'd recommend to you called "God Is Dead," which is about the chaos that ensues after god manifests in human form and is killed by terrorists. It was very interesting, and eerily familiar. I was having a bad day when I finished that one because my medication had just been doubled, and I was getting my depression side effect back, but C**** immediately suggested another which I have been devouring. It's called "Chosen by a Horse," and is about how adopting an abused, neglected horse has made an abused, neglected woman realize that she can love and be loved in spite of how painful her past has been.

The excerpt I'd like to point out tonight is about how she talks to her brother about their mother, who died when she was five, and he was seven.


"'Did I love her?' That was what disturbed me the most-- not remembering her love for me, but mine for her.
'The last time we visited her in the hospital, you climbed into her bed, and it took two nurses to pull you away from her. You screamed all the way to the car."
I pictured a little girl who looked like me, clinging to her mother, holding on for dear life. I thought if I could remember that moment, remember loving someone that much, I'd be able to love like that again."