Identify what is most important )0( Eliminate everything else
The idea that some lives matter less is the root of all that is wrong with the world. Dr. Paul Farmer
The suffering of others is not alleviated when no one knows about it.
There is no one right way to live. Daniel Quinn Ishmael
The only thing that you need to start an asylum is an empty room and the right sort of people.
We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful about what we pretend to be. Kurt Vonnegut

Monday, April 1, 2013


I found this whilst trying to mood alter this afternoon.  NASA helps me do that.  It looks like something coming together or coming apart.  It seems to exemplify how scattered I am, how I can never count on any kind of peaceful life.  It is the dust cloud around Formalhaut. 

I am having trouble knowing if the past few weeks are the beginning or the end.  Today nearly did me in.  The truth is that if my ex and his family have their way, and it looks very much as if that is a certainty, this mess will never be over for me.  I am fucked.  Completely.  Yet again, we are all scrambling all over the damn place doing whatever they want done, how they want it and when.  

There has never been a time when they have complied with anything, not even things that are so insignificant that they would never have been noticed by anyone, unless they had not made such a big freaking deal about whatever it was.  

This most recent thing is that they are withholding the information I need to file my taxes for last year.  Doing so makes it so that I will be in violation of the tax laws concerning the sharing of income information for divorced persons, as I would have to file an incomplete return.  I provided my information for them nearly six weeks ago.  What the freaking fuck?

So, after everything crappy that has happened recently, it appears that I may not be able to file properly.  And, now, here we find ourselves with less than two weeks before the tax deadline.

No information for doing the damn taxes.  No expectation that I will ever receive my share of our resources, or at least a share of what is left from him stealing from the funds.  Nothing.

This will never end.  I am so fucked.

When I began writing this evening, I thought that I had made up the word decreation.  It appears that I have not, and that my use and intention is spot on.  I was thinking that it was the opposite of creating, sort of the un-creating.  I am fairly certain that it really is not a real word, in the dictionary-sense.  But, it works here because I am coming apart.  I am disappearing, bit by bit, each new assault takes what it wants.  What he wants.  I escaped with my life and it disturbs him.  He will not stop until I am completely gone.  I thought I was safe.  I was wrong.

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