In the principle of maintaining truth on this blog, I will describe the world as I see it at the moment. Spring is trying to wrestle the last unkind vestiges of her sister Winter. The sun laboriously tries to pierce through the thickening clouds. The harsh wind smacks bare skin.
I hide inside the Taco Bell across from my therapists office, copping from the dollar menu. My mom’s ghost no longer follows me in this restaurant. The garish uncomfortable booths have been toned down to more earth tones, wood color. Is she watching hr almost entranced daughter. Not good enough, mom. Never ever. I almost cried at the therapist. She never hears me, but I’m sure my neighbor hears. Loud, child tears. Everything is wrong and as long as I avert my eyes people may not see the worthless mass of life that continues breathing within me.