I Can Spend The Rest of my Life

Watching the World Catch Up With Me.

That’s not arrogance. I’ve suffered horribly from being ahead of you from birth and not realizing that. If someone had explained to me being smarter was just like being beautiful…a gift is a gift…you can flaunt it and think you are hot shit because of it, but really, it’s nothing you worked for, nothing to be PROUD of.


But also nothing to have to hide under a bushel. And that’s what I’ve had to do. Dee Dee did it consiously. I did it subsonciously, so RIGHT did it seem to me that I was the lesser being. In ANY situation. I sat in back. Joe sat shotgun because he was older. Once I protested and we all agreed to switch off–one day I’d sit in front, next time Joe would sit in front. Then I thought, “hey, that’s a rip-off! What about all those years I sat in the back without saying anything? Shouldn’t I get MORE than half time in the front seat?”

Well, my arguement was brushed aside like a gnat and I don’t ever remember riding in the front and my brother in the back so I guess I caved in and learned to love that long empty space all to my self–who needed to see where we where going or talk to the driver? Nope, I don’t WANT to sit up front. I LIKE it back here where no one can see me and I can see no one else.


We used to go on long drives on a Sunday in the car–the second-hand Cadillac my father always bought from one of his richer older brothers who’d buy it new then get tired of it in 3 years having barely driven it…a great bargain…a solid car…a smart way to get a luxury item…something I’ve inherited to some extent– an eye for a slightly used treasure in a flea bin. Of course mostly I end up with too many used fleas, but once in a while…you get lucky.


I think that’s all I needed to write down. I have a feeling I won’t feel so pressed to write everything down immedietely anymore. It’s not going anywhere.


Why try to hurry me into anything? Was I going anywhere? Slug like me? Weird.


Can I conclude that I would not have done a thing differently if I had my life to live over? That Michelle was not a mistake? How was I to know she was a textbook case? And we had some fun. And look where I landed. So, no blame. I’ll change my mind tomorrow but for today there’s no blame.

I hope the universe picks that up and it does some good some healing where needed.


First, learn to stop the pain.

Sheilds up.



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