Bitch, moan, and complain is the correct word, but in this politically correct world, downloading seems to work and it’s also less letters and a less degenerate viewpoint.

I have thoughts to purge and no, someone may not read it, but who cares. In fact, it may not get posted and even so, would people know who I was. I try to keep this blog quite private just for the sake of saying what I want without filtering my thoughts and only letting a few in. However, just to be sure, I’ll use aliases. Oh geez, did I use aliases on my other posts. I hope so.

I want to run and run so hard that I can’t think. I want to run so far that my body aches and not my spirit. I feel so much pain and yet in so many other ways I feel lots of joy. I think about people who’d like do overs. Guess what? I don’t want a do over because I’ll just make other mistakes and who knows if other choices would bring me any closer to happiness. It is I myself who must direct my way to happiness, but why do so many bitches, jerks, assholes, and miscreants get in the way? I know, it’s a matter of refining the blocking out process. If I could go back in time, I would learn something to carry back with me and that’s the art of just smiling and letting people know at the same time they’re full of shit.

I hate manipulative people too. I hate those women who look and act so sweet or whatever power they have over men that makes the guy jump through hoops just because the woman says too. It doesn’t matter how the woman treats the man or how many years he’s been a sap and she’s been a f—— bitch. And then to make it worse and have children with the man and children who turn out just like her. Or she takes diet pills while she’s pregnant and has an aggressive handicapped child who knows what the fuck he’s doing and does it because he can. Everyone says you should hate these poor little handicap kids. well, this one I do. I wouldn’t ever choose him as a friend nor would I choose to work with him. If he was my only choice, I’d get out of that kind of business, if I was in it. I’m not. I’m just in love with the miscreants father and he’s so attached to the past, his guilt, ego, and being the martyr, that sometimes I don’t think he has room for another person. He can’t marry me because in his subconscious he’s still married to the f—— bitch. When I leave, I leave. Good-bye, adios and all those other great good riddance words.

I’m so tired of feeling FINE fucked up-insecure-neurotic-emotionally deprived. Where and when did I start feeling that all the time. I’m tired of the anger and always feeling like I have to watch my back. And he tells me when we’re talking about having love for others–in general terms and not about my feelings of his ex wife and kid–that it all depends on the level you’re on. Well, I’m tired of trying to be on the God like level and loving and forgiving. I’m now on the level of trust very few and cover my own ass. I don’t feel I’ve lowered my standards. I feel I’ve attained a higher level of being or of living a more enlightened life.

I can’t stand the stomach knots nor the sleepless nights or any of the other crap that goes along with it. I want to run, hide out, gather my children and their spouses to be or significant others and have a good time.

I commend my future daughter in law’s mom for raising someone else’s kids. She’s an amazing woman. I know she’s had and probably still has hard moments, but she’s good. Maybe I don’t hear the complaints. I know she loves them though and if any of them don’t appreciate what it’s like, then they’re crazy.

I’m tired of loving little grandkids of the man I love only to have it thrown back with shit in my face from the maternal grandmother and the daughter. What are they afraid of? Hey people, don’t you know that there’s enough love to go around. Oh wait and the more love a child has, the more secure that child feels. Give me a break. I don’t love someone just because they’re “blood.” I do love my children and always will, but you know, I also love the people they choose. With so many sons, it’s great to have all the girls come along now.

It’s funny. I have this hate and frustration inside and now, I can’t seem to voice it all. I just want the anger to go away. Maybe I just want to live in la la land forever. I’m glad though that I’m getting old.

I just know this. If I were to find myself single again and the guy told me he had a handicapped child, I’d first have to know what kind of handicap and do we have to have the child over night, and then how much involvement is there with the EX wife. The other thing, I’d think long and hard about a man who has daughters or really thinks his ex mother in law is the best. Daughters can be tough and from my experience are. My daughter was really good to her dad’s girlfriend, but then I taught them to be kind. It’s all in the teaching. And that, my friends is where the real problem lies. And you don’t date anyone with a daughter who’s been a cheerleader or the elite marching group of the school. Color guard and marching band is one thing, they’re the geeks, but they’re cool and very down to earth. The orchestra kids, debate team, track team, and drama students are okay too. However, those elite groups of the school are rarely okay, but of course, that’s my opinion and you know what is said about opinions.


About 1byline

I love learning and traveling. I enjoy my job and my dream job is to be a paid published writer. I love being a mom too. I enjoy summer activities, gardening, swimming, hiking, camping, star watching, hot summer days, walking, and even sleeping under the stars. My music tastes fit my moods. I love the classics from long hair to rock and roll. The other genres are jazz, bluegrass, country, and some soft stuff. I can listen to acoustic guitar or piano music nonstop. My reading includes biography, some novels, non-fiction, classics, and self-help spiritual reading. I love comedy too. I love laughing.
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