| Unnameable Wasteland I would give anthing, just about, well, within reason, not my firstborn son or the second or my own sanity to find some words besides "pain" and "hurt" that mean "pain" and "hurt." So tired am I of hearing them, and seeing them blown up, out of proportion, killing every good thing around, just like a miniature, verbal nuke. This hurt and pain will poison for a long time to come, will void out any entries in our underused blessing books, overshadow all the good and sharing of this relationship. There is nothing I can say to you, not even your own words of wisdom-- quote, unquote, mirrored back with the names changed-- that will not bring on your wrath disguised as pseudo-maturity and pain. If you are going to live in this wasteland, then name it for yourself and after yourself and be it's sole occupant. Out there, there is nothing to do but become a shadow and a parrot, cawing deathlike about now everything hurts, and how painful it is. Down in the rancid well of deep, deep pain, wallow in your own shit that you somehow think belongs to everyone else. The sun turns to sullen taupe as the fumes rise to heaven, as you look up and scream "Take me home!" "It hurts!" And no one answers in any way but "Get over it!" You are untouchable, so very proud of being unwanted and unloved that you bring on what never really was. Pam Ehli/2002 |
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| Since 1-20-03 |