Trust and true, not everyone is looking out for you. Some people actually understand how to look out for themselves and knowing, maybe, assume you know too and are in on the game. And so the look of surprise when you squeak.
What happens sometimes I think is that when you are cut it just stays open. Maybe not bleeding actually, but open in a way that maybe is only felt, not seen, but there, like when you can't see the scratch but the lemon juice knows where it is. Right where it is, every time.
You're at a level now where you're just paying taxes, so you have to mitigate, you know, find that way to where you're paying something else, good god, not the taxes.
It's the being questioned that I can't stand and the lack of self awareness, the seeming not understanding of her own provincial orbit -- it's not funny or you just don't get it.
If it bends....
When the truth is, I miss my friends, I miss my mother, I miss Doug. I miss being known in all the ways you can be known.
I miss it. That's all.
