I live in a truly gorgeous place and every morning I take a run up this amazing mountain that is near my house. It’s so steep, my legs ache from the effort, but I push myself to the top. Every morning. My penpal who knew me in my former life calls this my “punish run” and I think she may be right. I run to create pain in my body to remind myself pain can still be a good thing. Running pain is so pure and healthy whereas emotional pain was all I knew before. My runs are the only outlet I have to work through what happened to me on the mainland. I have purposefully chosen to remain isolated and withdrawn to avoid further incident, so talking about what happened isn’t an option. So, I run and think. Run until I can’t think. Then I run more. It frees me to focus all I am on just the next step. There is something so very peace ful about that.
I was watching a baby in the park today and her mother saw her pick up a piece of grass and put it in her mouth. Instead of just removing it and going on with her day, the mother smacked the litte girl (had to be about 2) on the head and screamed at her. I was horrified. I stood up to say something, or to hit the mother, something. Then I realized if I did that, I’d be sinking to her level. I left feeling so powerless to help that child. Why is a cruel person like that allowed to have children to torment?
Gay marriage (overheard two old biddies)
4How I was raised.
2Hello, I’m Alice and I’m fed up.
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