Streams of Consciousness IV

This is not easy, watching her run from this demon.  The hold is strong.  He is wicked jin.  She is so innocent.  My lids are heavy.  My brain churns thoughts.  I miss home, spooning with dog.  Where is this line between self health and love and giving familial support. Exhaustion.  I am aggressive and stalwart.  She said my mere presence antagonizes the predators.  Angel vs Demon. Angel always wins.   I’m ready to be home again.  Everyone here in Texas is angry. What the fuck ya’ll so mad about? 

Sniff a tree!

Climb a flower. 

But for shit’s sake get off the housewives of whatever personas.  This energy in this place is so full of envious and rude intent. 

I miss the kind people of Washington who let you merge into traffic then wave and smile. I miss my water and pine trees, walks at the lake and dog parks.  I miss hiking.  I miss my guitar. 

This place is not my home.  

All assholness aside – I am witnessing some sick mentalities inside this Muslim religion.  These people are arrogant, gossipy, envious, selfish, and they use their religion to enact it all.

Break them. So mote it be.

About Vennie Kocsishttps://venniekocsis.wordpress.comI am the author of "Cult Child", a memoir detailing my abusive childhood growing up in Sam Fife's Move of God cult. I am a poet, artist, advocate and pedophile hunter. If you understand these words, you understand my experience. MILAB EMPATH HYBRID HAARP POKERFLATS

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