Things I learned today:
-My grandmother’s cousin potentially committed suicide by jumping into a crocodile infested river in the Northern Territory.
- Alan Jones, The Lord of the cunts himself, once said on air that my grandmother was a nobody who had no idea about what she was talking about…
There’s someone I know who’s never stood up to a certain bully in his life. He thinks there is some grace to be had in toleration and accommodation. Maybe there is, but it resembles no earthly morality. Any reward for such behavior is between him and God alone.
My brother’s been online for the longest time, gathering an audience. No comment on how much help he’s been to me :)
Hatred didn’t harden -
it flowed to every extremity,
every externality.
To see was to see you,
betrayer of all you begot,
an arrogant sadist who said
he healed just to push in needles.
We didn’t feel ridiculous. Our poverty,
our disgrace, was inexplicable.
We felt what we heard -
that we must have deserved punishment,
that we chose like stupid animals,
that our gratification broke down trust,
somehow.
Less than human, our bitterness
was the only way out.
Everything was your fault -
to say otherwise was to deny the world,
to call it cruel and perverse,
to break ourselves again.
And there was your corpse,
yellowed eyes, pale, pale skin,
a moth singed by the heat of the light.
When I saw the ribs sticking out,
almost bruising the little skin left,
I couldn’t stop crying.
