I don't put my heart into anything and I don't know if I ever have. My mother thinks she has the choice to hang up the phone. She is an ostrich. She likes to stick her head in the sand and live in pure contentment, no matter the sand in her eyes, ears, nose and mouth. It makes perfect sense! Don't YOU get it? Rigid rules. Dictator dogmas. Enormous elephant existing, I think, existentially.
So much denial. Enabling, co-dependent relationship. Dysfunctional dyads. I get better cause Uncle Sam says it's right! Who knows what's right? I do, I do! Me, me, me. It's not about me, it's about you. Prose is like a rose. Pick one petal, and one petal and then there is nothing left. All gone. But the baby birds always want more. To fly away from the nest. Did you see it? The last petal just drifted slowly to the ground. Goodnight world! Goodnight spiders. Goodnight tablet. Goodnight thoughts. Night, Uncle Sam! I love you!!
