So -
I'm still having creepy dreams.
Luckily, in the recent dreams he's just watching.
I'm doing boring stuff like cleaning and
trying to bury watches (getting rid of the past).
But -
It's creepy.
I decided to do some online shopping.
I bought too much -
seven gaudy sterling silver rings,
ten gaudy sterling silver necklaces,
eight earrings (one diamond),
one blue sunburst Ibanez acoustic-electric performance guitar (hope it sounds better than the basses),
a couple of gig bags,
a flash epilator,
a trench coat,
some matching underwear sets (don't know why - it's not like anyone will see them - well, with the way I drive, paramedics will probably see them),
some hot ginger body cream (because I have a delusion it'll help me lose weight).
I shouldn't have bought that last item...
The dreams are back....
I've lost three more pounds this week.
Seventeen pounds to go.
Not sure what to type.
The only thing I learned today is that I'm trying to use my Christmas bonus to fill the painful hole in my damn heart.
Have you ever had a dry socket? You know - people get them when they have a tooth pulled and do too much of a good job cleaning the wound so it doesn't heal properly. It just leaves the root exposed and every breath makes a person scream out in pain.
That's what my heart feels like.
The pain is made worse by the dreams.
If I don't think about it, the pain just turns into this dull angst that I use to inspire artsy stuff to do.
The dreams make it worse.
I dream of an old friend as an alcoholic/drug addict.
Given my work, the pain is intolerable.
I left him so he could be happy. I wasn't pretty enough, fun enough, sexy enough, exciting enough, smart enough, wasn't the right kind of Christian and wore the wrong kind of shoes.
During the most challenging time of my life, when I was in the public eye, he was a major dick to me and tried to embarrass me publicly in front of reporters, real musicians and real politicians.
Not to mention the people I know who like to frolic in the dark arts (well, I guess that's another way to describe politics....nevermind, I don't want to be redundant.)
I really shouldn't give one single frick about this person.
Sadly, I care.
It's hard to love someone who hates you.
For decades I prayed that my love for him would go to his girlfriend or wife or someone who could do something with it.
Maybe I should have prayed that it went to the closest sentient being to him (perhaps a puppy?)
I don't know.
It shouldn't be here with me.
It's time to be selfish and find a way to stop feeling like this.
Shopping isn't the way to do it. Now, I've got to clean my room and make room for the crap that'll be hitting my mailbox next week.
There has to be a better way to fill the emptiness.
My boss expects me not to go out in public if I don't have to do that.
You know what, I'd have felt better if I'd have spent the money on food, water and shoes for the homeless folks down the way.
It irritates people that I care so much for homeless folks.
I know it pissed off my in-laws.
It got me shoved out of any Republican volunteer gigs - not that I would help a bunch of thieves. Sad, isn't it? I never thought of them as thieves until they pushed their own to steal tents from homeless folks.
I thought that was the domain of the Democrats.
It's probably annoying my boss.
Not sure I care what anyone thinks anymore.
I've got more meditating to do.
Please find your favorite gig and play it as much as you can.
Love ya lots,
S.