Care Packages

I care about you.



Let's break that shall we...

I-Me; one

Care-suffering of mind (I kid you not. Look it up!)

About- in the vicinity of

You-the one being addressed

Hmph.

When I first started this entry I was gonna go in a total different direction until I looked up the word "care". Suffering of mind?

Lately alot of people I know have prefaced really fucked up stuff they have said to me with "I care about you..."

Really?

You have a suffering of your mind in my general vicinity? That sounds serious. Maybe you should see a doctor. Maybe you should get away from me if I'm the source of your brain fever. And for goodness sakes don't cry for me!

Your "care" is pointless and a little frightening. I can see this intense mind thing as being something that could cause you serious problems, like that horrible case of diarrhea of the mouth you've developed. This mind cootie you have has obviously got you thinking that what you have to say, no matter how offensive, has merit enough to let it gush forth.

But don't. Your "care" is not needed. Didn't Jesus "care" enough so don't have to? Don't be so self righteous. You aren't suffering for me. You've got guilt to work out about your own crap, I am sooo not your redemption.

So please don't "care" about me.

'CauseI sure as hell don't "care" about you.

Warning Blockage Ahead

Given the last entry, go ahead and assume what you will about where I've been the last month.

Damn, I'm having some sort of block. I don't know where I'm going with this so let's just try a stream of consiousness exercise.
Hmmm...deja vu

Okay, so I'm enjoying Un-Ex's company and keeping a very level head. George and a I have come to a truce (basically I told her to shut the fuck up about Un-Ex)but at least once a day she gets her jabs in. I'm in a contant battle w/ laundry...Sunday night I chased crabs around the kitchen in the middle of iPod's party.

This isn't working.

Sorry kids I'll try again later on.

Where the Heart Is...

I'm reminded of a day in early March.

I was still making the commute from D.C. to Baltimore and I was soooo tired. Ya know how sometimes you get so tired your just mind just hits auto-pilot for the routine stuff (like driving home)? Well I was totally zoned out just thinking to myself, "I just want to be home. I just want to be home. I just..."

I snapped out of my fugue just as I had turned down the street to the house I once shared with The Un-Ex. Funny. Somewhere inside me considered that placeand that person home.

After the "un-breakup" it was as if the parts of me that were hurting had disconnected in order for me to function (spiritually I was in pretty bad shape). During that drive, they came back. Anger, hurt, betrayal, sadness, love, disappointment. It was the first time I cried since I had left. What made me angriest was recognizing that somewhere in me, I still loved her. After 20 min of a rollercoaster of emotions, (and a cigarette) I was able to calm myself.

"Fuck it!" I said to myself. "Doesn't matter what I feel. It's over." And then and I there I committed to moving on,rebuilding, and making myself so busy I had no time to think about any of it.

I think I've been doing a good job of it. But it's not quite right. I still have the occasional moment.


And so dear reader, I know you're thinking, "D.I, what is all of this emotional drivel about? Where are my pot shot's about Craig's weekend Ho-Downs? Commentary on iPod's new wardrobe? Musings on having George as my new manager (can you believe it?), and where's The Soup???"



Well, darlings on a dark and stormy night in fair Brookland...





The Un-Ex called me...