introspective periscope : peeking inside since Y2K

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in case i've had you fooled, you should know that i am not a nice person.

the straw that broke it - thirteenth of may, 2003

"she wished them luck

as they left on their journey

maybe she'd join them soon

but she lost her grip

at the tip of life's finger

went home and worshipped the moon"~nick drake

i'm ready to go home. we were supposed to go home tomorrow and then, in my sympathy, i said we shoud stay another day. and now i'm regretting it and my stomach is turning in hard balls of firey hate.

"the whole world can't be wrong," she said. and i know she's right.

after it was all done....my sister's hair pulled as she drove in my rage and stress and hurt...i sat on my great-grandmother's front porch, refusing to help bring things in..refusing to go into the house for spite..i sat on the porch steps and knew that this was the last time that i would be able to go into that kitchen and look at that familiarly distant linoleum and smell that comforting smell of age and years of having been lived in. that smell...no, instead, i let them carry the food that wouldn't fit into the refrigerator in and i smoked a cigarette and let the thoughts come randomly.

i listened vacantly.

thoughts of just waiting in the road to be run over. thoughts of going home and doing it another way. its sickening, i realize. but i didn't stop them. didn't push them away. and i have to admit i entertain them more and more often these days. i think of my great-grandmother and this memorial that i have, at the last minute, decided not to attend...and i have this calm feeling. i am ready to die, too, these days. this calm feeling saturates me completely but then, i somehow push it away.

there is one thing keeping me here and thats him. and that bothers me because i'm not even sure that its because i love him, some days...its just that...when i think of leaving...i think of how it will affect him and that isn't fair. thats when i think its most selfish and thats when i mind most. thats when i think that there are other ways to handle this...

but those ways become less and less reasonable.

they are my brother and sister and i hate them and, regardless of the distance between us and the time that expires between visits, it always comes down to the same thing: my disgust.

i sat on the porch and i smoked a cigarette..my fifth? sixth? today. i thought of the stress here that is nearly unbearable and the claustrophobia of people and the crush of noise that was overbearing this evening as they packed themselves into her kitchen and ate and laughed and joked with each other while i sat in the other room reading a book. i don't know how to explain to someone that when i come here, i feel more alone than i have ever felt since i moved out of my parent's house. i don't belong here. this is my family by blood and no more. they know my name and that is the extent of it. and i'm not much for small talk, anyway. and i've never been much for crowds.

i sat on the front porch and my fury subsided but that hasn't changed my seething hate. i wish i could get rid of it because it physically hurts inside. but i can't. not when i'm around.

the only time i like my family is when i'm away from them.

i smoked my cigarette down to the filter and stubbed it out in the wet grass, flicking the butt into the street and watching it glow under the streetlight.

i know that this is the last time i will be coming here.

they say you love your family most when you're gone. they say you miss home until you actually get back there.

its like she said:

"the whole world can't be wrong."

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.what came before. - .what happened next.

a diamond at the bottom of the drain - 20 october 2017
baseball season to football season, abbreviated - 25 september 2017
the doodles - 11 july 2017
at arm's length - 4 july 2017
like a sea-mammal needs a bicycle - 30 may 2017

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