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((((oreos mom))))

Dear SC,

See, isn't it better at work when we treat each other well? What happened with us happened, the end. Nothing says we can't be friends. Besides, no offence, you couldn't handle me.


Dear JM,

Thanks for asking about me interview! I didn't think you'd remember, given that things at the office have been nuts lately. Come out for drinks next Friday after work!


Dear HR board,

Thanks for giving me the opportunity for the interview for the job I already have and am doing well! I think I did well, thing is, I have worked for the supervisors on the board before! And WG thanks for the wink at the end, I'm hoping that this means I did well!

Dear My Neighbour:

Now, I know that living in the North means that it snows! I also know that I often hear you swearing loudly through the walls of our duplex, and I hear you screaming at your dogs, hitting your dogs, and arguing loudly with your girlfriend who I rarely see and have never spoken to. I also can tell that you do not do anything, well, when you're at your duplex at least! I know that you do not have a job (unless it's selling drugs, but not enough people come over to indicate that) and that you smoke a lot of pot (this isn't a diatribe against pot smokers, just *this* pot smoker) as I can often smell it through the bathroom walls of this moldy old duplex!

Back to the snow! It snows! I know it snows! And what do you do with snow when it snows? Well, you shovel it. See now, for a while we didn't have a shovel, and well, being as ghetto as we are we never shovelled. But miraculously you shovelled, or left your shovel out and we used it. Then you began shovelling the drive way to fit a million cars, or at least four school buses, then you'd knock furtively on our window and ask, "when are you going to shovel." not once did you talk to my boyfriend, talk to him about shovelling. Well, you did today, when he *was* shovelling and you said, "hey man, don't worry about it, it'll just snow over it anyway, if you need help, just ask". No, you didn't put down my boyfriend for not shovelling, nor did you tell him that it was his job to shovel, that i should shovel, as you told me when i joked about sending him out to shovel.

But then, yesterday you were gone, and the day before, and it snowed a lot, and well, I shovelled the drive way and moved my car off the street and into a small part of the drive. And, there's enough room for your car, can you believe it? And the walkway's shovelled, and the porch had 1/2 inch of snow from this morning, but you knocked anyway and said, "well, you can't park in the drive way if you don't shovel". and I indicated I had shovelled the morning prior and you stuck up your stoned gloved finger in my face and said "once, you shovelled once, you better keep shovelling, or you can't park in the driveway!" And then we shovelled and you had the above exchange with my boyfriend, so we decided we'd follow our plan and we'd shovel where we use the driveway and the porch we'll do the whole thing (unlike you who only shovels your 1/2!!).

I want to know what you're trying to say to me, what you're actually trying to say, because I'm getting the feeling that you like shovelling and well, you're jealous that no one has set up some fucking club for you. is that it?

In loving honesty,

Dear Mr. P (Drafting Instructor),


aunt agonist
dear ex,

you are a douche. the person you have become breaks my heart. not just b/c of the break up but because you are better than this. you chose to be this shitty person in a shitty situation. i asked you to be my friend and you said no. i don't need a 'friend' like that so thank you for letting me know. i loved you fiercely and still do- but you are too fucked up to be of use to anyone right now. and you're certainly not doing yourself any favor. you fucked up and it fucked us both. good job, pal.
you sicken me now.
dear life-

wow. don't stop. there's every reason for this to work out. keep it coming.


dear A -

you fucking rule. I like you a lot. This can totally work. I want this to go on. wouldn't it be nice if it did. it would. it will.


ps - its so fucking hot to watch you get yourself off. I'll just leave it at that for the moment.
uh, yeah e.

there was no spark, for me at least. yeah, i know you'd like to think there was, but-- tsk -- so-rry.

although i have no doubt there was some spark on your end for me. i guess it's a habit from work but i know how to put on a good show. i guess i thought i would like kissing you....but.... i didn't. and i love making out. i love kissing.

before i kiss someone i like, usually get butterflies, with you....


and i don't know how to tell you. i'm not an asshole. i like being your friend, but don't get it twisted. this isn't a two way street romantically. for me, you're a nice guy, and a good motivator. we can talk about art, and other stuff and that's cool, but it's no big deal. i on the other hand, am your fantasy. i am the one ts out of all the ones that you flirt with, the ones you've slept with, that you know outside of the clubs, the threesomes (or whatever it is you and your not-domme did.) to you i'm more than your wet dream.

i'm 3D.

i am intellegent, funny, talented and you respect my art. i think you may think i am the perfect girl. everything you could want and a dick . your complements and flirting are great, but i don't have such illusions with you. guys, the words they say, the things they do, well, they don't mean that much to me. it's not like i have them throwing themselves at me, even if i did it'd be the same. cos right now--

right now i am falling in love with being on my own. i'm learning to love me and yeah, i know i still need to do that fine tuning that comes when you are looking to date-- but i'm not looking. i need to find my way to me. i want to love who i am, and, hate to say it, but to quote jill scott--

'you're getting in the way of what i'm feeling.'

you're getting in my way. besides. you got a gf. and while it's fantastic that you finally came out to her about your sexual desires, i'm not a prop, and have no intentions of being one. as i said, i'm not interested in threesomes, or whatever reason it was that you wanted to introduce me to her so badly. yeah, we'll be friends. but no more kisses. no making out. just friends.

Dear M.

FUCK YOU and the horse you rode in on. You are uselss at your job, stop trying to give me grief. It is baseless. I am good at my fucking job and the little darling of this department. You should realize that the supervisors in the office adore me and know that I am good at my job. Unlike you, your shitty reputation precedes you, and everyone know how shitty your work is. If you have a fucking issue take it to my supervisor. Thing is, no one else has a problem with me. You are the problem. Maybe if you stopped being such a fucking uselss cow and stopped making enemies here, that would change. But eveyone in other community offices know that you do shit work. You are threatened by me and my work, and let's not forget that the other reason you don't like me is becaus I am friends with someone who doesn't take your shit. M, do the world a favour and die, you are truly a waste of skin.

Sooooo, HB.

Is there anyway that tonight can just be chill? I'm glad you agreed to stay in, but no elaborate meals, no surpises, no flowers, no BFD. I know you're all romantical & shit, but I've been a big ball of stress lately & would really rather just watch tv, eat some BBQ, & go to sleep.

I regret opening the drawer. I do. Because that's stressing me even more. I just wanted a sock, not Pandora's Box. Give me the nib & take that other thing right back where you got it. Seriously. Prettyprettyshinyshiny, but I don't want it. I got you a framed lithograph. It just makes me feel like I'm not living up to my part of the bargain. It's nice, but not that nice.

Dear Gods of Sex!

Thanks for sending the snow and ice so that my classes are cancelled and Mr. Pug has to come home early and I've got all my homework done so we can fuck all night!


Sincerely yours,

Dear Pugs,

Your letter has made me jealous. I want to get fucked too! Have fun tonight.

Dear CH,

If you need something to think about tonight then I suggest you check out the story I just posted in Fun with Floggers. It made me a little dizzy after reading it.


my little love bug,

i can't tell you how excited i always am to see you on the screen in front of me. you were wiggling around a lot today. i saw you peeking in and out of the screen even though the doc didn't want to look at you much, he was too busy making sure mama is doing her part to keep you safe.

i can't feel you all that much yet, but i love seeing you shaking your little rump around. you are so loved already. just stay put for a few more months. we're getting your room ready this weekend, but i have alot of work and preparation to do still. you have a lot of growing to do, too. that way we'll both really be ready when you get here. i can't wait!

i love you and will take care of you forever.

that is one of the' sweetest things I've ever read here fj.

you should print that out and put it in your baby book for when they she/he is older, always the legacy of love.
Aww, so sweet FJ!
*sniff* awful, awful sweet. smile.gifsmile.gifsmile.gif
dear c a

I am so glad you finally called tonight!! you have made my $15** investment into classmatesdotcom worth the investment and now I'm sorry I didn't do it sooner.

18 years is an awful long time to not be in touch, but you know you are cooler and wiser than I expected you to be. the years have been both harsh but also very good to you, that you see the learning and turned your hurt into hope and that is really just so amazing to me.

and I love that you were curious and open to my views on the military. I tried to be objective but as I said repeatedly as a cottisil, my perspective is stil decidedly slanted. thankyou for allowing me to present a different side of things that I honestly didn't know most civilian's weren't aware of, the good things happening over there, the schools and the clinics being built and the like. and I hope I wasn't too preachy about it, bc again, I can and do get emotional about it and even somewhat defensive but only bc so much is personally invested.

there is so much more I want to talk to and learn about you, the Grown-up you... please please Call Back like you said you would!

peace & appreciation,


I miss you.
you seriously have No. Idea. how. much.
I'm sorry I was so moody & difficult on the phone today, damn stoopid greeting card holiday anyway.
when you are back, we'll do that retreat thing still yes? we'll be marrdied people and take bubble baths and watch un kid friendly movies and really luxuriate in being together.
I miss you.

'nuff said,

sad.gif mrs
*sorry about the long post*

tranny god/dess:

thank you, thank you, thank you for today. i never would have thought i would have enjoyed having my hair pulled so much. you are one tricky fucker, aren't you? but i should have expected your offbeat beauty, shouldn't i? i owe you a few more offerings, to be sure. when i get a chance i will put some new things on your altar, k?

love you, you foxy fucker.

so why do you go by blondie, anyways? as long as i've known you (8 years? 9 years?) you've never once had blonde hair. i have to tell you, i love describing you to my friends, (built like a linebacker, and just as strong) telling them about how i had to be high on liquicaps because you pulled my hair so tight. but today i saw differently. i saw you before.

thank you for that.

i say thank you when i see you, but i think you think that it is just habit. it's not. you are one of my three "drag moms" and i guess i just discounted you because we don't really talk about much. it just never seemed like we had much in common other than being black transexuals. but it means a lot to me, always has, that you would do my hair for cheap. all this time you've been sneaking up on me. doing my hair, giving me little hormonal shots of me. of self-esteem. and when i say thank you, i mean it deeper than i can express.

in a lot of ways you were the drag mom i was the most skittish about visiting. you would chide me about not taking care of my hair-- even though i never saw your hair in anything but cornrowed braids. i still haven't got my hair figured out, yet you still pushed me. you knew it was what i needed. everytime i arrived, hair nappy, clothes soggy and skateboard a bit more worn, you would take me to task. to the point of hurting my feelings. but you took me under your wing in your way. and i slowly learned, i'm still learning. but now i try. now i take off my hat, and instead of the chiding, you simply go to work. heh. as close as i'm gonna get to a pat on the back, i suppose.

last time i tried to connect with you by asking you to style my hair and you shot me down. "you can do it," you said, impatient to hang up, " just take some dlkjdfk fdkjlkfjk then sdkd didfjekj and dkfjkdjfkj..."........honestly i can't recall a thing you said. i don't understand half the stuff you say when you talk hair. i haven't the vocabulary. "whatever it was you said, dkfjdkjfkj, and that's all you have to do," you said. then hung up. so i figured it out. i wanted to hang out with you and talk. i love hearing about your love life, all the mens gliding in and out. but we don't talk when you do my hair. always after. but i have a hard time telling you about my life. although i know you are proud of me. just for being me. you want me to be the best me, you've made that clear. thank you for that.

but i owe you (and the tranny god/dess) a huge thanks for today. if i had known that all i had to do was to notice the records in the corner and ask about them i would have done it years ago. your stories awed me. i felt like i was a student listening to a master, your confidant, your biographer. your baudy stories about being in prison, being 'on the stroll' doing what you had to do, and keeping your head up.

just like you constantly tell me to.

i loved hearing about all the bands you loved, how they used to do pre shows for the black highschools. it was like this secret history of being black and queer in the 70's. with your little, knowing phrases-- "they knew a sissy when they saw one."--said with such pride i was in turns jealous, inspired and equally proud. do you know how rare you are? i thought i knew soul, but you ran circles around me effortlessly with your queeny lisp. you met sylvester-- the tranny's patron saint. the weather girls. millie jackson, teena marie, and my favorite group of all time, -- labelle, you danced on stage with. wow. and that was the tip of the iceburg. how was i to know that you were an ex-crip? dated cops, two timing them with gangbangers? how was i to know that your "being a punk"-- something i was deeply ashamed of growing up--was your source, your power, your strength, your key? the thing that gave you access to all sorts of worlds. how was i to know that you, too, were known by the name 'trouble?'

last week i came across a famous spy named Chevalier d'Éon, who was a famous spy who would dress up as a woman, and, by all accounts a seductress. after his-- her career ended, she was so beguiling that the london stock exchange took bets on her birth gender. so persuasive, the king recognised her as a woman.

you were the equivelant-- you were the best-- and worst kept secret. everyone knew your rep, thru the pimps, thru the gangbangers. thru the bullets, and prison shanks, you knew the ins and outs, the tricks, the prison guards, and played them all. i think they underestimated you. just like i did. you'd think i'd know better. who, when threatened "if you aren't a real woman, i'll slit your throat," walked out with your money. all the things that i hide, gave you pride, and made you strong. all i saw as weakness and flaw, you saw virtue. if you had asked me before if you were one of my heroines, i don't think i would have said yes, yet today, i can't deny it. i admire you, so much. in one day you taught me how to be proud of who i am just by being who you are. for that, you have my most heartfelt, deepest,

thank you.


ok, so it's not my hair, but thanks for the good hair day, all the same. and thanks for it not hurting as much as usual. now if you would just let my own hair come out nice when all is said and done, i will be super thankful.

Dear Weather God,

Thanks for the snow but the ice was a bit much. It took me 45 minutes of scraping to get my car cleaned off today. Eventually I had to go get a pitcher of warm water to melt it away or else I would never have gotten to class. More snow, less ice. Thank you!

Dear Sex Goddess,

Thanks for giving Mr. Pug a boast this morning so that he woke up early and gave me a fantastic orgasm. I was still twitching for like ten minutes after I thought I was done. It's so nice to wake up like that in the morning. Can you have him wake me up like that all the time? I know it's unrealistic but come on.

Dear Money God,

Please explain to Mr. Pug that it's hard for me to ask for money when I've never had to. Tell him I'm sorry that I overdrew my account but I feel guilty asking him for money. I know if I just ask he'll give it to me and I won't overdraw but it's a pride issue with me.

Dear Family Goddess,

I haven't spent time with my sister is so long. I really miss her. I want to know how her school is going and her relationship. We have so little time on the phone. Can you please grant me one weekend with her? I know it's hard for her to get off of work and hard for me to not have to do homework and cleaning on the weekends but we really miss each other. We need to spend some time together. Please!!

Thanks so much!!


So, why the hell do you want to talk to me, anyway?? I'm finally more curious than irritated, but not enough to call back. Am I just being stubborn in not calling you? Maybe. Still, I think that continuing to call someone every 1-2 years after the last time you spoke, at which time she asked you not to, is suspicious and worth avoiding. But maybe I'm just overcautious that way.

dear zoya -

no negative thoughts. be grateful for everything you have, everything you've been given. This isn't then, this is now. This is a completely new part of your life. You are not a victim, you are not a loser, there is everything in this world that you should have.

and it is coming your way. don't stop it. don't fear. it will come. just have faith. have more than faith. know it. trust it.


Congratulations, FJ!

WOW! You look great and sound even better. I’M SO PROUD OF YOU! Keep up the hard, great, work. I love you so much. We all love you so much. Your little apartment is wonderful. I’m glad you are happy with it. Don’t worry about the job. It’s JUST a job. Keep going to your meetings baby girl. You are my best friend and cousin. If you are lonely then go get yourself a little kitten like you said. My visit last night was so much fun. I’m glad that I called you to see if you were available. We can make this an every Friday night event if you want. Mac & Cheese, Shirley Temples, Liar Liar and laughing our asses off sounds great to me. I know you don’t drive so I’ll come to you. I don’t care if we just sit there and talk and laugh and don’t even watch the movie like we did last night. As long as you are smiling with me I’m content. I love you L. I mean that from the bottom of my heart. You can call me for anything even if you relapse. We are family and we will work through it. We’ll pull together like always and help you in every way we can. I promise I’ll be there in a heartbeat. I have no problem making another very illegal u-turn on a major highway in order to come be at your side. Anything for you I swear.


Dear you,

It's funny how we keep bringing each other to understand the truth in tired cliches: first, "can't live with him, can't live without him", and now something like "I'll never get over you." At least, I hope it was right to use the word "we" there; I hope I'm not alone in this now. How are you? I don't know. I'd like to know.

Me, I'm okay. Finally starting to mean it a bit, instead of just saying it in hopes of convincing myself. I've started taking antidepressants. I'm starting to get my health back a little. And (i'm sorry) I started seeing that new guy again, last month. And still, at every turn, I'm comparing him to you. And still, every damn time, he's coming up short. And still, every time he does something hurtful I wonder, did I ever do that to you? How did that feel? And am I in this now to punish myself? All I can say is that I'm sorry for the times I was cold, or oblivious, or selfish.

It's been around seven months now, and I'm wondering when life stops feeling empty without you in it (another cliche you've breathed meaning into for me). I am still grieving you, us. Most of the time I can push it to the back of my mind. And the rest of the time...

Are you still furious at me? And do you, with your much more cavalier approach to words (not like me, who chooses each one with a magnifying glass and tweezers), do you realize what the word "furious" meant to me? How much it hurt for you to tell me that, and then say that yes, you'd prefer if I didn't contact you any more?

I wish we could talk. I had an experience the other night that was... jarring, to say the least. It would be overly dramatic to call it a near-death experience, but it was close enough to get me thinking about dying, and assessing the state I'd leave my life in. And I realized that my relationship with you was the only one I'd be sad to leave in its present state. I wish we could reconcile. I know we can't be together (now). (Can we ever? Can we marry, have children together, do all the things we talked about, the things I never would have imagined wanting until you?)

I hope that you are okay. I hope that you liked the therapist you saw, and that she is helpful. I hope that you are not hurting, or hurting yourself. I hope that you are lurking here, but I also hope that you're not (afraid of what you'd have read of my life and what you'd have made of it... a bit put off by the loss of whatever privacy one can be said to have on a site like this... and most of all afraid that reading this will set you back in your moving on process).

Are you sleeping with someone else yet? I don't want to know. (But I almost want to let you know that I am not.) I had a sex dream about you last night. We were in high school again, innocent and excited.

Oh, but now I'm feeling scattered, lost, and getting more lost by the minute. Maybe it's time to retire all this to the back of my mind again until next time something triggers thoughts of you (it happens more and more instead of less and less, it seems. I thought it was supposed to go the other way around, with time.)

One last thing before I go: thank you for loving me and caring about me and always being there. I've come to realize that that is truly more important than saying the "right" thing to comfort me. Just the wanting to, now I realize is enough.

I love you. Still. So much.

Only kisses on the cheek, I suppose,

P.S.- The other day I saw a little girl who looked like the one I used to imagine us having. Broke my little red heart.

Dear You,

When did tying me up and blindfolding me, switch from a sensual experience of tantalizing sensations, to something that feels mean and abusive?

You know, seriously. Think about it. I know that back when you first did it, I enjoyed it. But that was because you seemed intent on PLEASURING me..but lately it feels like you're intent on PUNISHING me. Seriously, how is what you did today NOT punishment? And, fairly cruel punishment. I have NEVER treated you that mean, when I've tied you up. EVER.

Not cool to do to somebody with my past.


Dear Self,

He knows you're upset now. I don't think it will happen again. He stopped immediately when you melted down. And you should have said something way before that. Don't sit there and try to "work through it" when you're having flashbacks and panic attacks and triggers during sex. Don't wait until you're completely fucked in the head.

But, dammit, it's YOUR day now, and you shouldn't be sitting in the dark crying. Have a toke or something.
Dear Idiot,
Yes, I hate public speaking. Always have, probably always will. I know what I want to say but my voice shakes. It's a reflex. I can't control it. Practice will probably help diminish it but I'll never be as smooth with a mic as you. Or your equally idiotic girlfriend. What I lack in public speaking skills I make up for with integrity, a strong work ethic and a spine. Something you lack, as does your equally vacuous girlfriend. So FO to you and FO to her. FO FO FO FO FO FO. And when our time working together is over. We're over. OVER. I'll never be obligated to listen to your nasally drone and your girlfriend's self-absorbed personal anecdotes that actually pass for journalism. Is she blowing someone at the station?

May you two live a long, boring, airless life together WITHOUT ME,
aunt agonist
dear self,
you're better than him. you were the catch and he was a fucking snake in disguise. he talked a good game and fooled a lot of people but he will never fool you again. none of your mutual friends even liked him. even if you're just finding out now, remember that the only good he had in him, he syphoned from you. he's a parasite and dosen't know how to be anything else. you loved him as hard as you could, but a snake is a snake and all the love in the world wouldn't be able to change that. he did you a fucking favor by breaking your heart because now you know who he really is. he is dead to you. you can't mourn someone who dosen't exist anymore. he never existed. the past 5 1/2 years were a fucking bad dream. a dream of lies and undeserved sacrifice. he is paperwork. a minor irritation. he was never and will never be good enough or strong enough for you. keep your hate for him until you can be truly indifferent- you're gonna need it. i know you feel like you've been raped but it's not your fault. you are stronger than this and you always were.
love (you're gonna have to rely on self love for a while but it'll make your strong ass hard as fucking nails)
I am not your friend.
running into you today was not the good-exciting-ohhYAH it's YOU event to me that maybe it was to you.
my heart sank when I realised it was you calling my name.
I had genuinely assumed you'd moved away.
I carried you and your crazy nutbag family through the entire yearlong deployment the year before last out of some, I'm not even sure what- obligation to making my mr's life easier so your mr could best do his job and be less issue to my mr I think. when you relised I no longer called when they returned, I'm sorry you didn't realise that was the end for me. I honestly wanted to find your mr, and find you, and then join you by the hand as a handover to him and tell him ' this belongs to YOU Now' bc I cannot bear the weight a day longer. you - are- crazy. harsh but accurate. the offspring you have birthed are also swimming in the shallow end of genetic offness. I can't do it. I worked w/ your family out of obligation. that's- it.
bc my mr was sr to your mr and I saw a family in perpetual crisis; I would have done the same for anyone bc it's how I am. but now you are civilians and I have absolutely NO Obligation to be anything at all to you, least of all your savior once again.
when you are un crazy/ less crazy, you are so sweet and good and I see so many limitless good possibilities for you.. getting your GED is just a starting point, but I can't do it for you and am unwilling to be your cheerleader.

I cannot help think that running into you today was more than just cooincidence, so I am going to interpret it as a Test, to see if maybe I have learned anything at all about Personal Limits.

I don't want to hurt your feelings but do wish you well out of my life all the same~

former albatross load bearer
Dear Self,

Just calm the fuck down okay. That last client was a real prick. Fuck him. I know you don't like being angry at clients, but this guy really pushed your buttons. Who cares, he's a shit, not your fault that he ended up where he did. Feeling better now? I thought so.

((((((((aunt t)))))))

i'm shaking. i'm sitting here at work and i am fucking shaking. and it's funny, mom, cos i am having a hard time figuring out if its because i'm about to cry or if i'm about to go off.

as usual your timing is perfect.
perfectly shitty. it's the perfect addition to the perfectly shitty start to a perfectly shitty day.

i don't need to hear you love me. you don't. i don't want your love. you had your chance. now i just want to be left alone. it's hard enough trying to do my job without bursting into tears. its hard enough to get a note from you were i don't spew all of the bile and hate i have for you. it's hard enough without you and your bullshit. my throat is choked full of all the mean cruel things i want to say to you. my hands crave to be fists to put holes in walls to release all the anger i have for you. my head screams all the things i could say to hurt you to make you so afraid of ever talking to me that you would learn your lesson once and for all. i've done it before. last time i talked to sean, i said things that tore him to pieces. no wasted words. straight for the jugular. i don't like to be hurt, and you've hurt me most of all. it's been painfully brought to my attention in the last few months that i tend to lash out at everyone when i am feeling hurt. and maybe that's not the best way to handle things. but that doesn't mean i want to talk. far from it.

it's like every couple of months you drop me an email or a postcard saying you love me. but where was that love all those years after i told you i was transexual? where? and later when you were supposed to come up to see me and didn't call for months? three months. guess you were too busy to love me at your fucking prayer meetings and christian conventions. i was the one calling then, trying to connect with you, and you would insist that 'it wasn't god's will' 'hate the sin, love the sinner' and all the other bullshit christian slogans there were to ape the hate. i don't need you to hate my sin. don't you have enough sin of your own to hate without taking mine on too? i don't want to hear another thing about what god is doing or what he wants. you know what? i'm kinda tired of his bullshit too. but you'll never hear that. or me. or anything else i've got to say. it's not like you listened then, and it's not like you'll listen now. lol. sounds like you need to pray for god to heal your hearing. you know what? do that. and get back to me when you hear from him. then again, don't. cos when god finally gets back to you and heals your hearing, you'll hear me saying the same thing: i don't care anymore. not about your love, not about your life, not about you. leave me alone.


Dear Self,

So you stuttered in front of the entire class today. You’ve been doing so well since completing therapy again. You know your triggers and you see your stuttering coming. You prepare and usually conquer it. Most people don’t have the mental capacity to even begin contemplating how they are going to construct their sentences every time they open their mouth. You do this and you do it extremely well. You just had a slipup today. You are entitled to one when you are talking about a topic that frustrates you. So the girl across the room giggled. She’s a skinny little bitch who you could kill with your pinky finger if you wanted to. So the teacher saw you stutter and heard the giggle and didn’t say anything. He’s a nice guy, you like him, he was probably just put off by the whole thing cause he’s never seen you stutter before. People are just not in the know when it comes to stuttering. You can go around handing out Stuttering Foundation cards to everyone you come in contact with and you will still have one asshole laugh when your stuttering makes THEM uncomfortable. Your friends and family love you and know how sensitive you are about your stuttering. They know how hard you’ve worked to overcome it. They know you relapse and they don’t care. They ask if you’re alright and if there is anything you need to talk about. Usually you just get excited, stressed or a butterfly flapped his wings the wrong way in China. My point is that it happens and you can’t make it go away forever. Ilene tried to teach you that. That’s why she would make you stutter on purpose in front of the mirror. So you aren’t so ashamed of it. After 25 years you still are on the verge of total melt down anytime you stutter in front of a crowd and someone giggles. You know this is going to happen. It happens all the time. It’s time to stop being so angry about it. People suck and there is nothing you can do about it. Causing a scene and calling them soulless pricks just isn’t going to make a difference because they are all goddamn “perfect bitches”. Fuck them all. You are a goddess and that’s all that matters. Let’s not let this one incident undue all the hard work we’ve accomplished the last year and a half. I love you and your stuttering. It’s a part of us. Keep your chin up baby girl!


gt you make me want to mama you sweetie.
((((lmp)))) my very best friend stutters. A lot. Poor guy. It's really, really unfair when people don't understand, too.

((((gt)))) thank you for your show of kindness to me. And, like freckleface, reading your post makes me want to mama you, too. Hoping you find *~*peace*~*
dear B,

i really am sorry. i don't know if i want to be with you or not, given the way things are, given how angry i am with everything, and how unfair i will be to you, and how i will lie to you. none of this is your fault. i would like to be able to talk it over, sanely. but a part of me is about to hit send on a really nasty, curt, "i'm done here" mail. i won't sit around and wait to be dumped.
i'm sorry.
no one is as perfect as you thought me to be. no one.

(((lmp))) stupid shitty girl - a pox on her!

dear andrea dworkin,

Lady, I miss you. The Earth still needs you. Come back!


Dear Mr. Pug –

I’ve just had it with your childish shit. Come the fuck on already. You don’t go to the dentist for five years. You eat sugary foods (Kool-aid, chocolate, gummy everythings) constantly and don’t brush your teeth afterwards. So last night, you pop a sugary, chewy orange slice in your mouth and pull out a chunk of one of your fillings (which you wouldn’t have in the first place if you didn’t eat so many sweets). Now you need to go to the dentist cause you have an exposed hole in your tooth. You get pissed and yell and want to know why the filling didn’t last longer. Duh…cause you don’t take care of your teeth. I call the dentist and confirm that you haven’t been in five years. I make an appointment for a consultation and you get pissed cause they have to check you out first and then have you come back for repairs. OK, let’s compare this to something that you understand. If someone brought their car in to your shop and didn’t do any routine maintenance on it like oil changes (oil changes = regular dental cleanings) would you just change their oil and send them on their way? NO you wouldn’t. You’d make a grocery list of things that are wrong with the car and inform the customer of what they need done = CONSULTATION!! If the customer doesn’t want anything done except and oil change (filling fixed) then you just do the oil change and let them go. But it’s unethical to just let them leave without giving them the full story. So I hope that helps when you get pissed about having to go for a “consultation” and then repairs. Now stop being such a little bitch and go to the fucking dentist already. We have a good dentist. He’s not a crook. God I swear you’re worse then a fucking child sometimes.

Dear You,

I fucking hate you.

I know I'm not supposed to hate you, because you're mentally ill, and you "couldn't help" what you did to me and others. You're as much a "victim" of your illness as anyone else. And yet, as you can see by my "ironic" "quotes," I still do blame you. I do.

I know that nobody chooses to be a sociopath. That's an organic brain disorder, and it sucks for you as much as it sucks for everyone else around you. It wasn't your decision to be born without the capacity to feel for anyone besides yourself. It was just bad luck.

And I know that nobody forced me into our relationship -- I DID choose to be close to you. Of course, I had no fucking idea how sick you were, whereas you did know, and you didn't tell me. Kind of like knowing that you have communicable herpes, and not telling someone before you get into bed with them. But, again, you were born without the capacity to care for other people.

Intellectually, though, you are smart enough and sensitive enough to know better. You knew that people would be hurt by your illness, and you did nothing to prevent that. As a matter of fact, you enjoyed hurting people with your illness. It's part of your illness, to enjoy other people's emotions, since you have so few authentic ones of your own. You like pain, and you especially like other people's pain. Whether or not you understand how disgusting that is emotionally, you understand it intellectually.

It's like being color blind -- you can't see "red," or "green," but you know that they exist, and that others see them. You know that the green light is on top of a traffic light, and the red one is on the bottom. And if you're any kind of aware, responsible human being, you don't go zooming through red lights just because you can't see their redness. You work around your color blindness so that others are not hurt by your inability to process color.

Not you, though. You're too great for that. You're too grandiose. You're too much of an ubermensch. You and Nietzche, right? Nobody can tell you to learn the difference between red and green -- you're above it.

God, you are disgusting. And I fucking hate you. You're an evil person, and I don't use that word a lot, but it's true -- you are the opposite of good. You are anti-good. Your presence in the world is negative and destructive. And I've tried to tell myself that you DO serve a purpose -- you remind the rest of us how wonderful it is to feel things. As sad and fearful and guilty and miserable as any of us have felt in our lives, at least we FEEL. And that's a positive thing, right?

But I can't get over how sick and destructive you are, and how much you've allowed your sickness to hurt others. You make the world a shittier place, and I hate you for it. I wish that you would stop doing what you do; barring that, I hope that you die soon. It would be a relief to everyone.

Dear M.

I hope you die, I fucking hate you. The world will be a better place without you.


Dear Me,

Girl, there is nothing you can do about that fucking cow, just let it go. LET IT GO! I know it's hard. You bit back, and now she doesn't talk to you, isn't that what you wanted? I know you are upset, but just breath, girl, breath. That's all. Relax. Work you when you get home. You don't have to work with her permanently. Love your beautful, wonderful, sassy self. She is nothing. She is a wart on the ass of humanity.

lucizoe, you have the BEST. AVATAR. EVER!
My favourite episode smile.gif
((((((letter-writing Busties))))))
I'm feeling large amounts of empathy with y'all.

Dear mr. llamas:
Stop. Just stop. I'm so tired of your attitude towards our relationship. Oh yeah, I'm such a bitch and you're soooo innocent and put-upon. I know I'm not innocent either, but it takes two to cause conflict and I wish you'd at least consider that your behavior might not always be acceptable. When I upset you, it's accidental; but you say fucked-up things to me on purpose to hurt me in retaliation and think it's okay. I'm so afraid that you'll never stop seeing me as the enemy, and I just can't deal with that. Like my mom told me last weekend, at some point I just have to decide what I have to do take care of myself.

Dear self,

See working out does make you feel better!

Funnybird -

I can't let you out...The King of the Potato People won't let me. I begged him. I got down on my knees, and wept...

Can we see him?

See who?

The Potato King.

Do you have a magic carpet?

Yeah. A little 3-seater.

So, let me get this straight. You want to fly on a magic carpet to see the King of the Potato People and plead with him for your freedom. And you're telling me you're completely sane?


I..I..I don't get it.

*scratches head and sits down on the floor stumped*
treehugger's dialogue from "the red dwarf"
(Oh, treehugger, I'm such a purist smeghead that I can't let you get away with that. It's Red Dwarf, no "the." wink.gif )
aunt agonist
dear M,
every. single. time. i start to let my guard down. you are unbefuckinglievable. and still with an air of nobility. i'm mostly mad at myself for thinking we could be civil. ridiculous. you are calculated and cruel and if you try to hurt my family, i will lash out with whatever means i have available to me. i am givng you a chance now-- take it. it will stop me from having to fight dirty right back, and you won't have to realie that i fight dirty REAL WELL. just go. let me go... and you go too. shortest and saddes sentence in the english language --"go"
if you go now, even though i say we won't, we can be friends one day. after you realize. but for now- just let me go.

treehugger - tongue.gif

Dear Mr.Luci's boss,

You, sir, are a grade-A asshole. I used to think you were all right - a little too passive with your higher-ups, but in general, an okay dude. But last night (oh, I'm sorry, I mean early this morning), coupled with some new info, has altered my perception somewhat. You are - in fact - a spineless racist asshole.

Now, I really hate to break this to you, but my husband is not your personal slave. Really. The fact that the program you very explicitly told him NOT to fix earlier this week crashed does not warrant a phone call at 1:30 in the goddamn morning. You people are not heart surgeons. There's no patient dying on the table. There's a possibility that the CEO might lose out on a couple hundred thousand bucks of revenue, but frankly, that doesn't move me. Not when y'all cleared over a billion last year.

And you know what else? I am fucking on to you, man. You hired that waste of doughy flesh to breathe the same air as Mr.Luci, despite being told by your colleagues and bosses not to, given his gross incompetence. He got a month off almost immediately to go visit his family back in the motherland, he gets more money and less responsibility, and Mr.Luci spends over a quarter of his time cleaning up his mistakes and explaining to him how to do his own fucking job. In fact, HE was the one on-call last night, NOT my hubby. But, of course, it's not a big deal if HE doesn't answer his pager. After all, he has kids!

So, 'fess up Mr.Boss-man. Dough-boy is from the same town as you back in country X, isn't he? I mean, I know he's currently your neighbor over in Jersey, which is suspicious enough, but is there some sort of class thing going on here, too? You go easier on all the other people who share your heritage as well. I know this, because Mr.Luci has reached a point of frustration and anger where he actually feels the need to keep track. Petty, I know, and entirely out of character for him, but it's gotten that bad. You even let those two junior engineers cut and paste old code into Mr.Luci's new design, fucking half of it up, without letting him know and without expecting them to actually, I dunno, do their fucking jobs. Funny enough how all those on your team who aren't from your country carry workloads at least twice the size of your all your friends.

Unfortunately, since you're not a white dude and he is, any accusations of bigotry on Mr.Luci's part will be looked upon as racism on his.

But you - sir - are a douche. And I hope you know that in less than a month, my husband will be walking out of there, leaving you with the mess you created. I hope you get fired. You almost did before, and Mr.Luci won't be covering for you in his exit interview. Or for that asshole who shares his office.

Fuck you.
dear zoya -

get off your ass and get your shit together. Life is handing you a nice little package right now, but you need to do your part. Life is not going to pack your shit up for you and get it into storage. it's not going to sell the stuff you want to sell. that's your part of receiving this. So f**ing do it, already!! come on, woman!

get up. now. you.

dear life -

you put him here. he's here for a reason. bring him to me.


Dear Luci,

I hope the mr's situation improves soon.


Dear B.

FUCK, SHIT, DAMN! Tuesday was too much for me. Fuck, you only went up my shirt and I grabbed you, but fuck, you made me weak in the fucking knees. I cannot stop thinking about you playing with the barbell in my nipple, you only played with it, you didn't even go down my pants, and fucker, it was amazing.

I want to take you deep in my mouth, I want to make you cum, I want to hear you moan my name.

I am so close to begging for it, I don't beg! Then when you told me you had a friend who would be a third, while not into dp, shit, that pushed me over the fucking edge. We've been playing for, what, week and a half now! Lets just fuck already!

I think it is totally cool that you are getting testing and showing me the results, I have a new respect for you!

So, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE, can you bend me over, and stick your cock in my ass?

Waiting patiently, but don't know how much I have left in me,


Dear crappy work assignment,

I hate this current assignment, I'm getting burnt out, and I feel like a monkey sitting where I am.


Dear K,

I hate it when you are right. Dammit! Every time we have one of our chats, I change a part of myself, and this isn't a bad thing, but fuck I hate it when you are right. You mean a lot to me though, I wouldn't trade it. Don't change. EVER!


Dear PR,

Motherfucker you are missing out, and let me tell you I am having the time of my life. If I see you out at a restaurent or wherever, and you are out with your friends, I'm ordering you a pink fuck, frou frou drink. Just for you, at the table. Then I will laugh hysterically as I see it delivered to you.

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