| Subject: I'm pushing up this one. |
Author:
Holly
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Date Posted: 11:08:47 08/22/01 Wed
In reply to:
Holly reposting for Isabel
's message, "Christmas in July" on 11:45:37 07/29/01 Sun
>Hello! I'm re-gathering the stuff I lost when my old
>computer bit the dust, and I'm re-working the stuff
>I'd already worked up for the TMYS hard copy edition
>(I back-burnered the project when I got pregnant, but
>I didn't kill it). I asked Isabel for some help with
>some of what I'd lost, and she sent me this beauty.
>Enjoy!
>
>"Merry Christmas"
>
>Copyright 1999 by LP
>
>-------
>
>
>You won't understand me, I know you won't. I've tried
>to explain myself to the people that know me best and
>they only look at me in confusion. Why should you be
>any different?
>
>You probably imagine me making a snort of disgust at
>this point. Or banging my hand on a table then
>looking at you all tragic-like. Poor, poor me. But
>again you would be wrong. I told you you wouldn't get
>it. You think I care? Believe me, caring is not a
>problem I have anymore. As if.
>
>Have I made you mad yet? You think I'm unfair? I'm
>talking about you like I know you, like I know what
>you're going to do when I haven't even told you the
>story. What? You want to prove me wrong? Forget
>it. I haven't written this to set up some sort of
>challenge you can rise to, so you can think of
>yourself as this smart compassionate chick who can
>figure me out. Like I said, I don't care. And that's
>not just a cover for my sadly battered heart. I'm not
>reaching out.
>
>Besides, by the time you read this, it won't matter.
>
>There. You're doing it again. Trying to get into my
>head. Just stop it, alright. I'm not going to give
>you anything. I'm not going to tell you what happened
>or what I'm planning. I know this is just a stupid
>story to you, but this is my life and I'm not going to
>put it out there for you to dissect. You want
>motivation? Here's this -- things just aren't going
>so well. You want sense of place? Think the middle
>of nowhere. You want to see me? Look in the fucking
>mirror.
>
>I'm scaring you, aren't I? You think I'm going to do
>something stupid. Like maybe even (come on, let's
>whisper it together), s-u-i-c-i-d-e. I hate it when
>people think I'm stupid. What, you think I can't
>handle this? You think I'm going to break like that
>pathetic. . . Oh, no. No no no no. You almost tricked
>me there. You're kind of sneaky, you know that?
>Looking at me with those pretty eyes like you give a
>shit. Like you could. You don't even know me. And
>believe me, you're better off. What's with you
>anyway? How about you fix your own life and just stay
>the hell out of mine.
>
>I didn't ask you to read this, you know. We've all
>got choices and you just made a bad one. And you
>thought I was stupid.
>
>Aw, poor baby. Not having much fun, are you? You
>don't know me from Adam, but I think right now you're
>getting the picture that I'm not very nice. Took you
>long enough. So why don't you do us both a favor and
>just leave? Go away. Vamoose. Skedaddle. Take a
>hike. Get the hell out of Dodge. Leave me alone. I
>don't need you.
>
>I don't need anybody.
>
>Why are you still here? You got some sort of
>savior-complex? You getting off on seeing me this
>way? I know your kind. Believe me, you only think
>you want to help -- mostly what you want to do is make
>yourself feel better. And I'm done being used that
>way. You want to be a saint, go help some other
>sinner.
>
>God, you're pathetic. You know that?
>
>Forget it. This is hopeless. I'm out of here.
>
>And listen -- if anything happens, I want you to know
>something -- it's your goddamned fault. How do you
>like that? Think of it as a gift. Fuck you and go to
>hell. Merry Christmas.
>
>Heh heh heh. Sick bastard is right. You know, maybe
>you do understand me after all. Such a smart cookie.
>Aren't you glad you made the effort?
>
>Bitch. You're just like all the others. But believe
>me, you can't hate me any more than I hate myself.
>But don't worry, I'll be out of your hair soon enough.
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