Saturday, December 18, 2004

Dec. 18 Part III

Poems: An unrequited love
I looked over some poetry, hoping it wasn’t as bad as I remembered.

It was.

Heavy sigh.

There is a trio of poems I wrote in the early morning in the garden of the Alamo, in San Antonio, Texas – I guess you could call them “ghost poems.” There’s some hope there.

But the rest.

Should be burned.

Pet Peeve:
When one person says to another, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

It means that the speaker is about to do something deliberately cruel. The speaker already made the decision to hurt the listener and wants to be let off the hook, told it’s “okay” and not have to face the consequences. A person doesn’t say those words unless the person knows he/she is about to inflict serious harm – and the person chooses to do so anyway. The person could have chosen not to and didn’t. It’s all about the choices.

My response used to be: “Then don’t.”

My response now is: “Don’t worry about it. You’re excommunicated from my life anyway.”

And they are.

Toxic people are no longer welcome in my life. In the short run, there might be regrets. In the long run, it’s much healthier.

Short story:
Playing with a bizarre new short story idea. It just might work, if I can pull it off. I’m hoping it’ll run about 2000-2500 words. I might stay up and write it all night, at least the first draft, to see if it’ll flow or stall.

After all, I don’t have to be coherent to wrap presents, now, do I?



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