13 April, 2005
tender mercies

thankfully, the healing process continues... the recuperative powers of the human body, just as miraculous as the damages inflicted. it may not always be so. but i'm glad it is, now.
the next car that rolls away, heaven forbid, rolls alone.

i've given up chronicling every shitty thing that comes my way, so many have there been. it reminds me of the scarlet letter... only, in my case, it would be "L", for"Loser". i don't need/deserve that stamp. it's just harder to find the good stuff, that's all. not impossible, just more needle-in-a-haystack than it needs to be.

so much of the strife, besides the bonehead self-inflicted type, has come from locking horns with flaming assholes. and there's assholes a-plenty. maybe i'm turning into one, by association.

Flaming Asshole #1: the old demented veterinarian. ages ago, he bought property from my Grannie for his practice. not long after, he began dumping his refuse on her land adjacent. browbeat his son until he moved to Florida. became born-again. raised chickens for cockfighting (and still does). now, he's convinced that the surveyors that plotted my little patch of land have cheated him... out of five feet.

Flaming Asshole #2: the next door neighbor from hell... the one i was ready to beat the living shit out of. his story has been covered, already.

Flaming Asshole #3: my own mother. again. she'd decided that i was going to refloor her kitchen, the weekend that my butthole fell out. when i didn't show, even after i called and told her about the "accident", she slammed the phone down on me... a stunt that Flaming Asshole #2 has recently employed.

i think i need to move. to the west coast. preferably north, out of pyroclastic flow path. or maybe on the other side of the world.

i don't want to wait until they die off.

sad thought, that.

regardless, watching life return to the landscape has been payback enough. from the crocus and daffodils, to the oaks and maples, the redbuds, bradford pears, cherry trees, and dogwoods, to the tulips and bleeding hearts, there's color everywhere. so many white blossoms in the trees, that i could have sworn that it had snowed when i looked out the windows, here at work.

tender mercies, i think they call them.

it's not like that warm comatose feeling like falling in love and lust at the same time... but it'll have to do.

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