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.

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