Thursday, October 27, 2016

Never Hated Motorcycles More Than Now

The motorcycles have been driving me crazy, sometimes as early as 6am.

On the bright side, the ridiculous noise levels despite living with old people are the worst of my problems and my only problem. Everything else is going well. I’ve had fewer earaches, and my hip is doing better.

The only thing I remember for dreams seems to be something about chatting with Jenny and resuming our so-called friendship. I definitely wouldn’t have any desire to do that even if she lived right down the street. No hard feelings after nearly 30 years, just no desire to associate with her. Or Emily. Or even Jessie since I stopped hearing from her and deleted her on Facebook sometime ago.

I don’t know if there’s something about me personally that loses people like I have or if it’s simply just a part of life, but I’m not about to sweat it and change who and what I am either. I’d rather be myself and lose people and have only a few good friends, rather than be more like the rest of the world and meet their standards just to hang onto people easier and acquire more friends.

Jenny dumped to me because I had too many more problems than she could handle. I was still very young and had a lot of shit to work through. She left me to have to go it alone until I met Andy. Andy wasn’t always high on sensitivity and support, but he was there… until I cut ties with him because I couldn’t tolerate his negativity (I know in his mind he felt he was only being honest) or his arrogant, judgmental and annoying ways.

Emily and I basically just drifted apart, though she may have been uncomfortable with my coming out. Again… no problem. Baring our true selves shows us just who our true friends are and who they aren’t. Some are proud of me for being me, others criticize it, not that I care. I mean I’m still going to do what I’m going to do. But yeah, if you don’t like one that can be blunt, liberal and a bit eccentric, then I’m not the friend for you. I don’t believe in invisible fantasies people call God. I don’t make excuses for my mother’s abuse because it’s “kind” or “correct” by saying she “did the best she could” or that she “must have loved me deep down.” I just don’t sugarcoat things is what I’m saying.

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