freedom comes at a cost and i am now paying the price of righteousness. but what are you gonna do?? NOT stand by your convictions??!! that would be truly horrible. i might as well roll over and die right here right now if i thought that every single time i stood up and defended myself, it would be an easy breezy feeling of liberation with no ugly backlash to then wade through, insult to injury as it were, but harder things have not killed me yet. the rejected male is a dangerous creature, all that pent up desire for a dick sucking travels from the scrotum to the frontal lobe and signals him to kill the object that is not doing any dick sucking.

in other words, ever since confronting my boss about my not wanting to be felt up anymore, in a surprisingly gentle manner ~~ which is all new to me, being the crazy aggressive femi-nazi monster that i am apparently ~~ i have been put through a series of further degradations to my amazement, not only by him, but also by his wife ~ who is now more my boss than he is.  she calls and dictates every minute detail of my entire workday now instead of the usual once a day update on whatever, while he no longer tells me anything on the current administrative goings on. 

often, i find myself gobsmacked by all of this.  he is aware that i was sexually abused as a child, i've told him a couple stories during the last decade. that being the case, i find it horrifying that he would think it is OK to tell me about his sexual fantasies...he is also 80 fuckin years old. HOWEVER he does not know this: my dad used to share with me his sexual fantasies involving me when i was about 14 years old on our drives to family therapy sessions in new jersey AFTER i had gone through the exposure of said abuse; testifying in court, lying under oath to make the abuse sound a lot less harsh than it was so that my father is NOT incarcerated, my mother is NOT deported, my brother and myself are NOT put in foster care, and the result is 5 years probation for him, he has to receive counseling and we cannot move to a different state. my mother doesn't speak to me for a very long time after this, and my brother soon leaves to serve in the military.  so, you can see how something as seemingly INNOCENT (ha ha) as telling your "secretary/girl" what it is about her that makes you jizz in your pants could really be opening a door to a specifically NON-sexual NON-pleasant realm.  

during the last 17 years, i've taken all the photographs of his work in the studio, but in the book that is currently being designed by another party, i will receive not a single photo credit, they are all credited to him. and now, instead of asking me if i want soup or salad for lunch, he asks me if i want lunch at all... i'm guessing since my body is no longer available for groping, then my internal organs no longer process food and get hungry or take shits.   

like most people on the planet earth, he seems to expect or assume that i'm going to do something really sketchy like a scumbag junkie would, and even though i am constantly choosing the more down to earth, level-headed approach to all stressful situations, this never seems to sway the expectation for stupid drama to occur...but it never does...this must be so disappointing for people when they're expecting a big show from the crazy scumbag junkie, but all they get is no eye contact. for example, i gave notice on my intended departure from this job instead of just a middle finger and a thanks for the memories. perhaps all this strange behavior is his passive aggressive way of saying he'll miss me instead of Just Saying He'll Miss Me, being somewhat supportive and understanding that i need to do some things in my life to fulfill my own self-respect and growth, that My Entire Life is Not All About Serving Him for the Rest of His Life.

so here i am with the same question again to the world: why can't people just be nice to me instead of treating me like a piece of total shit?  i am certain that i'm no longer attracting this kind of treatment subconsciously as the meditation has made me so painfully aware of self-talk, so why am i still standing out here getting rained on at the shit parade?  

i've decided all of this is a blessing in disguise, half as a last resort coping mechanism to the current stress levels and half as a blind leap of faith in a future i cannot see but have to believe exists in order to persevere. no one is ever gonna tell me why it is that as soon as they look at me, they need to be in total control of my life and then fuck me up the ass and if that desire is thwarted they are going to do their best to destroy all the things i do, all the things i say, all the things i am. but since this has been an ongoing theme in my life, it's important to note that i am becoming a lot less belligerent about choosing my own way than ever before.  kicking and screaming seems to have been replaced by quiet sobbing and reassuring myself that i have done nothing to deserve being treated this way and even though all the other people in the room do not love me, i do and i always will. 

the ground has completely shifted beneath our feet.

 *u can call me ph!*


life is hard, then you die. death is hard, then yer born.

i have finally understood something about people. 

most of what they say to your face is completely meaningless, especially when it involves some action, or remembering that they said these meaningless words to a person who might be thinking their words were sincere. but they are not. they are just words. 

time and time again, on the increasingly rare occasions that i do see or talk to anyone for more than one second, i hear the same things come out of people's mouths, things said just to be polite, but no actual intention or meaning or solidity resides in politeness, it's just another form of fear. not that it upsets me at all, in fact, now i just find it funny.  the little plays they put on for each other, but it's all just fake. 

so now i know why no one listens to me, because everyone here talks total bullshit, so they've all learned not to listen to each other, especially if there's a drink in the hand and blah blah blah.  

but now i also know why others act all weirdly surprised when i actually do the things that were talked about previously.  so much wasted angsty energy trying to figure out what the fuck is wrong with people here in california, and had i known this earlier...but oh well.

so restless, and still confused but strangely calm. 
can't leave here soon enough and can't actually afford to go anywhere yet. 
oh, also i have absolutely no fucking idea where the hell i think i'm going. 
but it is time to go, that's for sure.

i've enjoyed saying good bye to people without them knowing it's the last time i'll see them.  
there's no reason to make a big production out of it. 
no need to be polite and fake. it just wastes time. 
time better spent contemplating how and where and what to live for. 
no whom. just me, the light that loves me, and the soft breeze that kisses tears dry.
til death do i wait to part. 

life is hard, then you die. death is hard, then yer born.  

*u can call me ph!*