BLOOD VISITS & THE FAILURES OF MEN AND OF MEN WHO WANT TO FAIL ME

my baseball bat

For Xmas, I bought myself a baseball bat. Isn’t she a fucking beauty?!

It’s the holiday season and I’ve been forced to ponder things very deeply and very astutely. It’s an unfortunate occurrence as I think I’m pretty on throughout the year but forgive me for I am about to be blunt. I must address all who dare come out of the woodwork and come to me in both tangible and ghostly scenarios. It’s a cosmic joke that almost feels like you all met beforehand and planned sporadic trips upon my doorstep.

When I was growing up I always thought that I had failed men, when in truth, it was they, who had failed me – again and again. My whole life has been a power struggle with invisible XY chromosomes and for what? I’ve accomplished things in spite of them, and until recently, my version of success was based more in defense tactics rather than in offense. I want to free myself from this. While I acknowledge that this can never completely happen, because the sexes will always battle on some level (this can be seen in nature), my primary focus will be on myself. I will handle weapons instead of shields.

I will win on behalf of my own glory first. If I should win in front of you, putting you out of your misery, this would only be a plus. I’m tired of being a victim, tired of being pushed around. I’m tired of keeping my mouth shut, and saying “…it’s okay.” I’m tired of not being able to love properly, whatever that means. The Woods sprouted foliage from my veins, I own them and you don’t have an invitation to peruse them whenever you like. They’re meant for me and a select few. There’s nothing here for you.

One comment

  1. ry bin says:

    You are so beautiful even your baseball bat. I din’t know you can swear in a blog. How can you ever fail anyone man or woman, you have inspired me to crawled out the dept of hell itself. I was so afraid to cause you the slightest pain on top of what i failed to prevent. So i stay still hoping one day to have your permission to speak, all the while longing for a simpler time when i can just put your head on my chest and let you listen to my beating heart and give you the peace and serenity that is rightly yours.This used to work like magic when you were a few months old. I still have faith in this Magic. I prayed always for your success but most of all i asked God to keep you alive. I wasn’t worry about your materials success because i never had any doubt about your artistic ability or your intelligence. I still remember those modern art type painting i bought from you when Taichi was still alive, it was at Chalk stone’s ave. I lost my receipt, but i’m hoping the artist kept the paintings for me.You are right to focus on your self,but the inner self maybe a better focal point, because it is the heart that has the real power not the weapons. You already won princess, you just have to go inside to see all of your glories. When you do this may i have your permission to serve you some macaroni and cheese your highness? Writing is a cool tool for opening my mouth, not only that it helped me clear my chest congestion and help me breath. The woods are nothing but a Vail, i have been in the woods i when there alone seeking answers, but that’s not where i found them. At my age i know what hold meanings for me in this life. Let me part the curtain,let your glory shine forth, your invisible audience awaits you. Princess!

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