A COMMUNAL EXPERIMENT IN SELF CURATION

a Soul Project

archival : my own notes 2 :

Beady eyes glow at me in the dark. My feet are attacked by tiny predatory pounces. This is my current life. These are my reasons for living.

I was called by gerald today on the Bella phone, and the caller immediately hung up. Caller ID, dude. I returned the favor with a voicemail asking, calmly, to never contact me ever again. That I didn't care anymore, and never would. My voice broke on my final spoken sentence, and then I hung up. I wonder how this will be received. I wonder if my message will be heeded or taken seriously. I wonder if it will incite anger or sadness, or be dismissed as foolishness. Who was the person on the other line? I haven't known them for at least six months.

I will live. I will live with my cats and my apartment and my job and my family, new and old. I will live and be better than I could have been with an ungrateful, childish mate.