2004Aug25
Particular feelings of guilt and shame – no one to turn to but for those who say I need help. And it is intrinsically self-destructive to act alone. I can leave behind a letter, as feeble and cowardly as it is to leave. I think I have no choice. Yes, I’m in the midst of a tantrum. This is karmic. The discomfort I bring others by my very being is a direct manifestation of my abuse. I must transform my feelings into useful action or my experiences will have been all for naught. I am an artist. My identity is linked to my expression. Of course I’m unheard of, but not to be trusted as a result? And there’s the question. How much can I trust myself with? There is not a cohesive whole among my support. System-wide social eclecticism. What more can I do but cry out. I have become a writer and soon I will have become completely Indigo.