vulnerability ljr a gift you say. terrifying i say. 100812 ... unhinged not a gift. not at all. i can't remember the last day i felt strong, the last day i left the house without any tears welling to my eyes. i feel like a big gaping wound. even my big sunglasses can't hide my furrowed brow, bit lip. the busstop i stand at is too close to his house. i knew it was bound to happen; maybe why i wait til the last possible second to go to the busstop. but today, the bus was 20 minutes late and in the process of me waiting, he walked by. we both looked quick away, like we didn't see each other. he turned the corner so his back was to me, but i could still see him. what a metaphor; or something. so many times he walked away, his back turned and my stomach in knots. 100812 ... cr0wl this kills me. 100812 ... ljr when people are eating, they raise food to their faces and at the very moment of transfer into their mouths become incredibly animal-like and vulnerable. all their attention is centred on the not-at-all-easy task of getting a fork/spoon/handful of nourishment into their gob and their eyes become unfocussed with the effort. a predator would have an easy strike. if i watch from behind, on the diagonal their absolute vulnerability can make me cry. 100813 ... unhinged (i hate when people watch me eat. there was a time in my life when i shook so bad that getting food to my mouth was a precarious venture at best. embarassing, when most of the food falls from the fork. embarassing, when your face gets smeared. embarassing, that your heart is so broken that your hands tremble too. i have learned to sublimate that trembling to my foot, but still recently people have noticed again. if_only there weren't so many people in the world willing to take advantage of the fact that my true self is so close to the surface) 100813 what's it to you? who go blather from