Thy will be done

The rain followed us from Portland back to New York. Is it here to stay? It feels like it. In my last entry, I focused on the comical aspect of Michelle’s drinking and otherwise wild behavior. It isn’t funny though.

I have no power in this situation, except to emotionally extricate myself.

Last night I dreamed I was in this hippie girl’s room, and something disgusting happened. There was a bad smell, and it was coming from a bag in her closet. She refused to use toilets because of the sewer system being connected to the ocean, so she only shit in this bag. But even worse, I was supposed to help her scoop out the shit, combine it with hamburger meat and make it into patties to be cooked. Fucking gross! I put on gloves. Then I couldn’t stand the smell and became very concerned about getting a virus/parasite in my stomach from eating shit. I got out of there. There was something about escape in the dream and something about shoes. There was an attraction to a childish figure who may have been a boy from my past. I can't remember any other details from the dream.

I have been sick with a bad cold since last Thursday. What else is there to say? I can’t sleep when I can’t breathe through my nose, and so I’m getting addicted to nasal spray, just like my dad. I need to get back to feeling independent. Feeling dependent on someone who is unavailable or unsympathetic is scary and sad. I guess it’s my life story. I guess I chose to do it again. Then I start looking around me and seeing everyone as miserable, sometimes beautiful, disappointed, unsatisfied, dying, unloved… and I want to know the point. I want to know if it’s worth it. But these are queries with no absolute answers. So I try to meditate, but I end up thinking more about my relationship and the future and the past and then I tell God, I hate you, just like I told Michelle on her birthday, I hate you, and everything is hate and I start crying all over again.