The Garden of Love by William Blake

"

The Garden Of Love

by William Blake.

I laid me down upon a bank,
Where Love lay sleeping;
I heard among the rushes dank
Weeping, weeping.

Then I went to the heath and the wild,
To the thistles and thorns of the waste;
And they told me how they were beguiled,
Driven out, and compelled to the chaste.

I went to the Garden of Love,
And saw what I never had seen;
A Chapel was built in the midst,
Where I used to play on the green.

And the gates of this Chapel were shut
And ""Thou shalt not,"" writ over the door;
So I turned to the Garden of Love
That so many sweet flowers bore.

And I saw it was filled with graves,
And tombstones where flowers should be;
And priests in black gowns were walking their rounds,
And binding with briars my joys and desires.

"

was that out loud?

It was out loud.  I said it.  Did the silence just get louder? Take it back.  There is no taking it back.  Well fix it then.  There's an idea... how? No idea. Dammit.  "Done bun can't be undone"  Can't un-do, can't un-say.  I know that.  Say something.  Say what?  Something!  "It slipped"  No, dumbass. Say something else.  Too late.  Oooooooohhhhhh....... Did he just say...? "I heard you"  He did.  That's what he said.  He smells so good. You should have said that.  "Should have" is for --people with sense? people with more time to waste than live.  This is living?  Close enough.  Say you're sorry.  I'm not sorry.  Say it anyway.  That would be insincere.  God, you're a dumbass.  Run.   "I'll open the car door for you"  Now I'm sorry.  get out.  Gone.  oh god...he's walking over here.  Run!  Is that a genuine smile, a polite smile or a god-she's-so-stupid smile?  just leave.  Ok.  and don't cry.  Gonna cry. don't.  Ok...won't ...yet.  Maybe I should just say how I feel.  That's how we got here.  Is that how I feel?  you said it.  Yes, I said it.

I forget....is it good or bad when the police come?

John and I went to his job to pick up some stuff he needs to work at home.  Since we have nowhere pressing to be, we turn on the stereo.  I guess it was a little too loud becase three police officers arrived.  They, unlike us, set off the building alarm.  They took our i.d.s and the little one was a real jerk implying that we were up to something other than retrieving materials.  If I were a man barely 5 ft and 125lbs, I suppose that I would also have something to prove and require a gun and a uniform with which to bully people. 

We had a key.  *They* set off the alarm.  Taxpayers, light a candle for the inept policemen who gaurd us as we sleep.

I am too much in the sun

I've been dreading this day for weeks now.  Turning 30 just seemed so daunting.  I felt like I've spent all this time waiting for my life to get started and it's only getting closer to being over.  And then today I woke up feeling damn fine.  No problems.  Just another day. Did a mirror check and was actually pretty happy with the way I look despite staying up until 2 a.m.  Then I log on here...and I see my profile has been automatically updated to show my age and I'm feeling older, which is ages away from old.   That's not a bad thing.  Jon says so and I have to agree.

Your Pissy-ness does not impress me

I've been thinking about how to express what it is I'm feeling.  I think it's best summed up: I don't give a shit.

I understand the concept of prejudices and accept them.  Dammit, I embrace them.  This does not make me racist, anti-semetic, homophobic or any other label a (your) narrow mind is tempted to slap on me. 

When my dad receives an unsolicited opinion, his stock answer is, "Y eso que me importa?"   I am my father's daughter.  I firmly believe that people spend entirely too much time worried about what other people think.  I don't think like you.  Deal.  FYI: Dealing does not involve bitching to me because, as you know, I don't give a shit.    Don't like my views, my profanity, my race, my fat ass, or my flip attitude?  Say it with me now: I don't give a shit.

I don't respond well, if at all, to lectures or threats of damnation.  Please know, lest you assume that I'm ignorant or have a low IQ, that I am both educated and brilliant.  Please know that I am a fag hag, that my son's father is half Irish and half Lebanese. Please be informed that I have seven nieces and nephews, all of whom are half black and all of whom I love very deeply.  Please rest secure in the knowledge that my last employer was Jewish and I have profound respect and admiration for him, his family and his success. 

If you've read this far, you may be interested to know, that I laugh at racist jokes if they're funny... that I believe in God and am iffy about religion...I love tradition, but abhor conformity.  Politically, I'm a centrist with leftward leanings.  Church and State should be separate; the idea George W. as Pope makes me queasy.  I do believe the Pledge should say "one nation under God"  I believe in a woman's right to choose.  I chose.  I have an eight year old and no regrets.    If you disagree with me, your opinion is as important as any American's, even mine.  That said your opinion is meaningless to me.  Stop.  Don't take it personally.  Just get some confidence and one day soon you will honestly be able to say, "I don't give a shit"

I'm Here Now

Texas is hot.  I'm here.  Sorta half moved in, sorta still trying to find my cell phone charger.  It was a long ass drive filled with empty roads and car problems.  I've slept most of the day after getting off work at noon.  I feel better than I did stranded in Oklahoma, which I was only in because I took a wrong turn in St. Louis.  (I can get lost walking to the bathroom)  My kid has been absolutely wonderful through the whole trip.  I'm still settling and feel kinda outside myself.  It's like watching a lame movie in French, with no subtitles.