it was amazing what people took; vases, briefcases

I don't care about ending the future of suffering of poor pregnant women? Funny how I just don't vote to have her killing downgraded to a neutral even positive action, seeing as that her death would solve all the pain of her unplanned pregnancy. Plus with a dead pregnant women you get two individuals out of ptsd stricken poverty instead of just one, so, yeah drinks all round, I guess.

So you cant euthanise an adult human already in suffering but you can euthanise a child because of predicted unquantifiable suffering.

And whilst we are here, if its a truth and a moral one at that, that bestowing personhood on a human is a private, personal, circumstantial decision that should not be imposed by the government on anyone, who are you to say to me that pregnant women are people? So what if I think that ZEFs are people but born human individuals are not? What is that to you? As long as we all stick to acting out on just the humans who we think aren't people because of _____ then we will all get along in peace, yes? 

Ok lets take that example, say, a thirteen year old rapes his eleven year old sister, who becomes pregnant. Lets say that this 13 year old was raped himself as a child and is traumatised-most rapists are apart from those with sheer psychopathy or psychosis-and acts out that trauma on his sister-as what often happens with PTSD in child sexual assault. Perhaps, in compassion society gives him a sanitised space which he can therapeutically rape his sister, with a trained clinicians to monitor his health. Perhaps he finds after a few tries that raping his sister with a coat hanger too dangerous and demands that someone else does the raping with a curette and a pair of forceps.

Then lets take the sister, who is now pregnant. Perhaps she chooses to deal with her traumatic rape and subsequent pregnancy, not by ending the pregnancy-she feels it would be too traumatic for her- but by murdering an even younger born relation in turn. Perhaps she picks the way for her brother to die is by pulling off his arms and legs in his sleep and then crushing his skull. Perhaps in compassion to what she has been put through, she should be given government funded sanitised forceps to do the job. See where I'm going with this? Being aggressed against doesn't give you a free pass to choose assault against others to ease symptoms of your own PTSD. You cant assuage rape with raping in turn, or rape with murder, or murder with rape. I expect an option of murder and rape to be off the table to both a traumatised 13 year old and an 8 year old and I have 0 qualms about the government enforcing that. Because of their age I would give them both diminished responsibility and charged with manslaughter. I would investigate their families. I would suggest reform rather than prison. The pregnant girl they be up for parole because it would be unlikely that they would hurt anyone else.

You can still put someone through sexual assault whilst they don't know that its happening or don't realise that its wrong and its still a crime.

You do realise that she hasn't deliberately chosen to abort.

And you do realise that if she hasn't deliberately chosen abortion, then its forced abortion-putting sharp instruments up into your uterus-on top of forced sexual assault. And I highly doubt that anyone under the age of twelve would choose abortion on their own, its mostly adults that have thought up the mental gymnastics that you need in order to kill; the idea that humans can be pregnant with anything other than your own offspring.

Lets also consider that fathers sleeping with their daughters use abortion as a way of covering up their crimes.

hmmm I guess you could call me across the board a left leaning moderate with a libertarian sting in the tail? Someone once said that libertarians are like housecats because in their own head they are aloof and independent but rely on hand outs and the system, which I find hysterical because its true XD. I think that libertarianism thinks too highly of peoples motives and behaviour and doesn't actually work in real life, so I think its a moral duty for the government to back up limiting choice, but I would prefer a welfare state. I've grown up with it and think its completely normal for tax to be taken from my income so that someone's grandad can walk in and get his medication. I just cannot perceive anything else and its totally bizarre to me to see a state functioning morally without it. I am anti-abortion and the death penalty. I am for gun control. I am against euthanasia but "for" elective suicide. I am for gay marriage and I think prostitution, marijuana and class A drugs be be put in the hands of doctors, though I find the concept in of themselves distasteful. Some of those issues I feel more strongly about than others and I'm not a single issue voter. Every election I have to know that my vote can never change anything that I want to get changed, or I have to resort to tactical voting and/or vote whilst holding my nose, which is disheartening.

feeling frustrated by writers block feel down about it.  being ill has knocked my confidence in life and a positive future life is just....ugh. a bit worn down. my father was emotionally negligent and my mother was emotionally drained and unavailable. 

the cigarette winds upwards, a lazy white cursive.

Here is the letter to me

Not Cheetah but only Jenny

Not many people know you

But that keeps you steady.

People call me posh

but rolling stones gather no moss

the goss, their loss

You lie up there

waiting for this song to write 

You keep on sitting for singing

Am I wrong or right?

Right now all exits seem the same

Try not to cycle or start to blame

this used to be fun

to rhyme and hum

there wasnt the stress of being the one, hun

why not come?

beat your own drum

when is coming up now, your own sun

Hale from Lon-don

but the inspo doesnt come

not gonna lie i feel so dry

why cant you  just write it

why o why

my oh my

 I think punishment is coming. I don't want to phone Matthew I don't think he likes me or wants my call. Were having an argument about having an argument. Is these two sentences enough? Ok so maybe punishment isnt coming. Each time I talk with him he closes up a bit more.

 I remember the excitement of this. I met Christine today and we talked a bit about journaling. I was so good at this it feels bad to be a beginner again and its so stupid. He's offering you what you really want and some people he is instructing to be a martyr. When I have this I have all I want.

"Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space-"

"-or so they say."

 Listen to me! So hold fast. Don't even bother."

"My husband depends upon it; after the first few times, so did I."

If a women screams in the desert does she make a sound?

  i am afraid of a blank page. I don't know who i am writing to. I flip it round...what would have happened if it was writing that I had dived into instead of painting...

dream 10/06/20

Café sitting with what I thought was mum and son who had downs syndrome and autism and also my grandparents. Feeling uncomfortable with the son's erratic behaviour. Later turns out they were husband/wife and also had a child.

Going through a quiz with someone who did Christian Tarot, like what kind of future would I have based on my responses. WE never got around to the quiz part, had to break for lunch.

Moving down shoreham looking for house group? But turned out to be a runway.

fearful update

my bed shakes and I feel heavy footsteps in my room in my dream. I fear the intimacy that comes with being able to protect myself from such an attack. I am on the front lines facing the temptation to shoot myself in the foot so that I can have a respectable leave from my comrades. I am in despair.

I am in AGONY

PAIN HURT TORTURE TORMENT ANGUISH AFFLICTION MISERY DISTRESS GRIEF WOE WRETCHEDNESS HEARTBREAK HEARTACHE PANGS THROES EXCRUCIATION

LIKE MY SOUL OR WHATEVER INSIDE IS SHIFTING AND RENDING ITSELF IN TWO TRYING TO TEAR FABRIC AND SCREAMING IN GRIEF AS THE TWO HALVES ARE WRENCHED FROM EACH OTHER> TORN APART.

Its to do with my mum. And her mum somehow and misery, misery passed on and not being numb but being separate from the same time. I want to rip the skin from my arms flayed alive. stripped protective barrier definition of an outline and line between two souls I live here and no further and you live there and no further.

Just watched I kissed dating goodbye documentary. How much I feel like bolting when there is any emotional intensity asked from me/of me. You cant date because it will go too far then not enough..how marriage is going to be this thing building up then a letdown.

Most of all I'm afraid of teaching, I'm afraid of writing down that little word, even. Teaching implies that you know what you're doing with the text. Im barely responding. The text says "your heart is deceitful, above all else" The truth of the matter is that I have a belief that there is going to be an apocalyptical level response from God soon somewhere in the world, or else its already here and we don't see it...I have the belief and its backed up by tales of cities being levelled to the ground and children dashed against rocks. So I curl up in my bed not wanting to go outside (really I am so SO gifted and favoured to not be working) fantasising and pulling my hair and m. and then Jesus is there and I DONT GET IT.

Feeling low and anxious. One of those days where the world just seems too big and open and the only way forward to trust someone who gave himself up to be killed. I just ugh, this planet. I don't have the money for a hike in Croatia, theres Croatians that are starving.

Im probably lonely but to put out there to anyone on the internet, anyone who can wonder in and comment on the juxstaposition of needing both sex and Christ, life modelling and modesty. Im thinking so hard.

some thoughts

I don't believe the bible is infallible or clear. I believe that my belief in this statement has no bearing on what is actually true or false.

Angry resentful writing was never what I did before but this is me banging out because something I used to love has now being ordered and expected and now Im really pissed off and overthinking because I know that I have an audience and most of my daily life is a series of decisions that I feel shameful about. I've just...come off(?) of a two month binge on fantasy and erotic writing, a period of time is which had cut closer to my sexual expression than ever before. Most of the time I despair of ever making heads or tails of my adoption and my sexuality both inside my body theres just a terrible clash between free-form and rules.

How I long for stability and constant rhythm of Orthodox and how I fear the intense up and down rev up of charismatic, and how the very book that Im trying to work out for myself tells me that I cannot trust my own judgement.

I have no friends. It bothers me that I'm not completely motivated to make and find more. Lots of the time I just want to hole up in my room. Its not my own company that I want but just escape to live in a vacuum. I get overwhelmed easily. Relationships that a 32 year old is supposed to have, friends, spouses, children seem to be a step up for me and are behind a glass pane.

I literally do not know how to describe my reality. Bit of a slow and fast and anxious day my new skin of feeling not fatigued all the open questions. I feel the expectations confusing me both happy and sad feel threatening but the real threat is clinging on.

Feeling down about myself in a way that doesnt help. Reading explicit stories left me feeling overstuffed and unwanted, removed and untouchable. Everything to do with sexuality is a slippery slope. i am not allowed to be sexual until i tie myself to the kind of eternal atmosphere of my childhood home. marriage is permission but marriage is sad. marriage is quiet. marriage is unhappy.

And then comes the other double take, lust, gluttony for sexual attraction and affection...but also a blankness from my own life, afraid of the double crossing that I will do and my friends will do to me. Where I want to keep in a box and bust out all of the same time. I get what I ask for, not real flesh and blood but imaginary, someone who is always attracted to me, always turned on, never cheats or accuses of cheating.

Another first world problems post.Im not okay with feeling better and calmer and within a shortened emotional range. I had something, even if it was just sadness a direction and orientation. Now I have happiness, waking up in the morning and being content for the days events to unspool. The humiliation in being happy that you were wrong and to be 31 and have to go through puberty and experimentation again. I'm actually going to have to go out the door and live in each movement whilst the snob in my head shouts at me that it's beyond me and I have higher standards.

Chunks taken out of my own body. Why does he both want me to write and want me dead?

I don't have a narrative so much of what was safe hemmed me in. I have to be both happy and sad and I have an audience.  Everything has cooled but I have less skills and less confidence. As I write I want to hurl the tablet. I want to be separate and I want to read the Bible in a way that isn't just a book version.

Some thoughts which may or may or may not be theologically correct in my enthusiasm.

We will meet Him in the air, and then we will be like Him, for we will see Him as He is

I couldn't find my phone, so you got a blog post instead. 

Finally, it seems, right at the end of a lifetime of little changes of degrees, our final part of conversion into being a Christian will take place. When we see He as He is, then we will finally be as we are.

Take this blog post, for instance,it was only when we conversed with that one comment on the Phatfish video I was watching "this is the message that I want people to know" that I was able to do it. Even now, a few minutes after the connection, I am scrabbling around for understanding and words to get the message across which for a few moments was crystal clear and trans-formative for me. Now left by myself and hold my sight, I'm retreating back into my defensive shell of shyness and trying to deflect and defend that by using long words to show understanding. When I die, that moment of half-seeing will become moments of true company and then I can finally shed and let go of this life.

I let my Parent down today...not in a way that was cool and rebellious but I was simply afraid. A women sitting on a bench in a park with her dog with a walking cane by her side. I petted the dog so I had something other to say other then 'I think Jesus-who-only-I-can-see would like me to ask Him to make your leg better'. Then I walked away. Shuffled mostly, I oscillate between an extroverted energy and a body shut-down.

Now I'm skulking in my room, my real safe place, concrete, touchable and more the moment unchangeable. My mood is low and I'm already ruminating on the challenges of tomorrow, the day after that. I've lost contact after yesterday, the discussion between me and A where there was not two anymore but three, or One? The tears coming to my eyes after it was time to be on my own and face the train and its passengers alone. The brief cradling with the insomnia meditation, it was easier to close my eyes but now its morning and they have to open.

Again, not sure what to post, its probably just a mini rant about how I feel pressure to always give a good report about this relationship so that He can have it with others, but I don't feel like that so I'll just keep quiet.

Probably that I feel really angry but I cant get to it. If I had carried on like I used to I would allow the anger but now I cant shake the feeling that the heart is above all deceitful.

It stays with me, how I'm crushing my best friend-not that we're close but he has acted like a best friend anyway. If you say that you love someone why wouldn't you allow their say? I'm afraid of being overwhelmed, I picture it like a scouring, the light/dark clean/unclean of my childhood.

Was it? Was it deception? I flip from victim to guilty and back again, I only know that something happened. I had feelings and reactions, sensations that i could not describe and now feel adrift from.