The Butcher

April 18, 2011 § Leave a comment

Last week, we hit a bit of a standstill. In the midst of a session, not quite when I expected it to happen, we started to talk about what I knew would soon come up. The reasons why I can’t seem to change what should be simple behaviours. What it all comes down to is that I don’t like myself a whole lot. Worse, when pushed to think or speak about it for longer than that, I can admit that I really hate myself sometimes.

Where this came from, I don’t know. What started it, I’m not sure. I’ve known this for a hell of a long time, as long as I am aware of remembering myself as me, but it’s taking me a very long time to write this out, because my brain is so intent on looking away from this fact that I actually can’t concentrate on writing for long.

Really. There’s about half an hour between paragraphs. This is the paradox I am fighting. I do not want this. But I cannot look it in the eye. With time and university and money and not-losing-my-mind and/or my relationship pressing down, I cannot look at this thing and even get a good look at it. Which makes it harder to fight. I’m aiming shots at the beasts of last time. Even they are different to the first. If I could describe, name or speak about what I want rid of perhaps this would be easier. At the moment, I can’t string a sentence together out loud


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