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Memory block September 15, 2019

Posted by fmmh in : Ramblings , comments closed

I forgot I used to call her Eva

I’d do things 4 Eva

Told her I’d love her 4 Evah

That’s not her name but she prefers Eva over Ellie

Fucking pronouns and direct objects

Eva refuses I statements

cleaning house September 14, 2019

Posted by fmmh in : Ramblings , comments closed

this morning’s dream was a little sensual and a lot twisted

due to the air of the fan breezing across my skin,

over my biceps and climbing across my heart

no blanket binding me there

a hunger, a thirst

such a weird dream, i actually woke up at 7:24 am

must be hypomania the cause

sleep wonky

mind racing anxiety about future

hypersexuality replacing the numbness

urges to clean house

and shop

the voice told me to clean behind the fridge

and inside the stove

the stupid debate had begun

the voice finally admitted that she wouldn’t live here

but she would come over and look behind my fridge

i start to realize she’s talking Jungian with me

it’s so funny, i’m so gullible and naive and deluded, and produce evidence of these facts

still engaging this incredulous nonsense

grabbing cleaning supplies

asking the voice, “why will she be looking behind my fridge? is she really that ocd?”

the voice assures me she is definitely a neat freak and one day she’ll want me to paint the walls

this must be a waking dream

sigh…i don’t wanna paint this house, i hate this house

the voice said that’s why she’ll encourage you to paint

to make you feel better about yourself

i pull back the fridge and gasp

the dust bunnies, the broken glass, the cat hair…the house is not that old!!!

i get down

it’s so gross

but i’m smiling

the visuals set in of me actually cleaning the art room

me painting in oils on canvas again

that was the point

it’s like the guilt and shame i feel about my whole life always returns to WHY AM I NOT PAINTING

the voice is like super-ego and super-id trying to do soulwork on my subconscious

total mindfuck

beating around the rose bush September 13, 2019

Posted by fmmh in : Ramblings , comments closed

i can’t stop thinking about her

the voice in my head tries to “help” and banters and flusters me saying things

and making me fantasize and ruminate about scenarios that will never happen

mostly about seeing her again

she told me i better stop smoking because she also doesn’t like me smoking

she said she was going to move in with me

she would tell that renter to go away, after questioning him about if he still fucks me

and if i drink alcohol around him

she said he would jokingly lie to her first then later tell the truth

then flirt with her

she told me i should clean the house, she was coming over

she said she was a little ocd with cleanliness, so i better organize things neatly

she said she would go through my whole house, looking through cabinets and drawers, to see if i hoard things or retain sentimental items in hiding spots

she said she would ask if my exhusband ever hurt me, why the divorce, etc.

she said she wouldn’t like him or my son (because my son was just like him)

i’m outside plucking fungus-spotted leaves off the rose bushes

considering to stop smoking

still entrapped in this schizophrenic conversation with the invisible friend

so i started cleaning house, opening drawers and seeing things in places i was too lazy to put up or throw away

after picking up a few things, i stopped

i told her, this is insane, i’m not going clean up this mess

“she’s not coming over”

but i’m still wiping the paw prints off the microwave and stove

opening cabinets and remembering i don’t possess much, we couldn’t really cook

she said that is why she would open the cabinets, wanting to cook for me

then i looked in the empty fridge, and laughed at myself, no food to cook either

i started throwing away expired food out of the pantry

then stopped

how does my mind conjure such thoughts?

can’t see her, i’m not allowed to go there

i don’t know her, yet the voice acts like she is predicting the future…as if, she’d ever cook me breakfast….sigh