Wednesday, December 05, 2007

Freud the Barber: How's Your Mother?

It's true that a blog is a kind of shrink. A free therapy session with a kazillion excellent and understanding listeners, and really, isn't a great deal of therapy really just listening? And responding to what is heard? Well, if it isn't, it ought to be.

The very second I hit "publish post" on that hateful rant below, I felt both better and worse. Better, because it was a kind of release, and worse because now everybody who is important to me knows I'm a bitch sometimes.

That was a silly thing to say, because you all knew that already, dinncha.

Truth be told, someone I love is being maligned, and I hate the feeling of helplessness, and I hate the deja vu, and I hate the anonymous spawns of Satan who are being so cruel.

I might hate their anonymity the most. People say and do terrible things under the cloak of anonymity.

No, that's not true. I hate those who believe anonymous insinuations even more than I hate the insinuators.

Well, it might be a tie.

Those of you who pray: please put a word in for my friend. Those of you who don't: that's okay, too. But you don't know what you're missing. :)

I thank you, dear internet peoples, for putting up with me. It's got to be hard, sometimes.

Wes: remember that post card you sent me YEARS ago? I still have it.