The Twenty-Ninth Post
Soon, then, the compartments will swallow you like they do, they always do. First you will be in a large compartment so vast I won’t even realize it’s there. Then, that compartment will shrink. And narrow. And shorten. Before long, you will be in a small room, in a mansion full of many rooms, where it won’t hurt, though you’ll be a tooth in the gears of my divine discontent machine. Then I’ll write horrible love stories that end in abandonment, and betrayal, and death, and you’ll watch them on the screen, or read them somewhere, and wonder if they were about you.
You really hurt the fuck out of me.
you portray hurt so beautifully.
im so sorry.
Somehow, it would seem, the compartments have a mind all their own–out of our control.
I’m sorry. I get this.
Yeah. I tend to have two choices where they’re concerned: exercise them with intent, or let them exercise themselves.
i’m a lurker, but after this one i had to say something.
your words are beautiful. thank you for sharing. that’s all i had to say.
If only literary revenge could kill the pain.
And the pain lingers…..
Beautiful words, sharp as a knife.
I wish you well.
@mrs. m: thanks for saying that. and for reading.
@oatmeal girl: if only any kind of revenge could kill the pain. alas, no.
@moonheart: thank you. and same to you.