I know you like me to speak directly to you

wish I knew what you were looking for
might have known what you would find


and it's something quite peculiar
something shimmering and white


it leads you here
despite your destination

under the milky way tonight


Comments

Unknown said…
شحن برى الى مصر
من الان لا داعى الى البحث عن شحن في الرياض الى مصر فشركة بيرم هى شركة شحن برى الى مصر إحدى الشركات الرائدة في مجال الشحن البري الدولي والتخليص الجمركي والاستيراد والتصدير لحساب الغير ، ولا داعى للقلق على ممتلكاتك التى تريد شحن دولي لمصر ، ولا داعى للخوف من الان لما يتم تداوله عن سمعه شركات الشحن بالسعودية والتى تعمل بطريقة غير شرعية للشحن ، فعميلنا العزيز انت الان وممتلكاتك فى ايدى امنه وشركة متخصصة فى مجال الشحن البرى والداخلى .عروض شهر الصوم اتصل الان لتنال افضل العروض التى لن تقبل المنافسة مع شركة بيرم اقوى عروض موسم الصيف وشهر رمضان الكريم اتصل بنا لتجد افضل اسعار شحن البري الي مصر وخصومات هائلة لعملائنا السابقين وخصومات كبيرة لعملائنا الجدد فقط اتصل بنا الان فنحن افضل مكتب شحن لمصر ممكن الاستعانة بها فى مجال شحن لمصر من السعودية ولمزيد من المعلومات يرجى زيارة : https://beerm-ksa.com/%D8%B4%D8%B1%D9%83%D8%A9-%D8%B4%D8%AD%D9%86-%D8%A8%D8%B1%D9%89-%D9%84%D9%85%D8%B5%D8%B1/
Laura Palmer said…

At least twice just within the last 2 or 3 years, you’ve eagerly learned 2 new languages to speak with 2 of your women. Yet you never did and still don’t communicate authentically with me, who you say you love, in your own goddamn language. That irony may or may not have already occurred to you. Either way, it still makes me feel like shit when something reminds me of it.

FYI: John Oliver’s new report on ‘pig butchering’ scams was quite interesting, but the part about how the scammers may deploy a special app to help seem legit, it was similar to your fake “Ravkoo Health” lying campaign. I was targeted by about a half-dozen pig butchers on Tinder, but at least those guys were easy to spot quickly.
Laura Palmer said…

…..


“…with You” as in her, or me? I know these all have to be for her, too, because she must be reading them. She and I are not one combined individual.

Lest we forget: you’re having so much fun with this.
It’s such a blast, still manipulating me from a distance with this secret code that never gives real answers. You have the perfect audience, too- this fucking cursed & heartbroken loser who tried valiantly to break her trauma bond conditioning and failed fucking miserably.

I still don’t trust you to enough to look away from you, either. And I keep talking and shouting here to try to get it the FUCK OUT OF MY BODY, hoping maybe at some point I’ll finally feel heard and seen and acknowledged enough to GTFO, but who knows if that’ll ever happen? I sure don’t. I just know I got fucked up and fucked over completely and entirely at the worst moment in this sad fucking story, and now I’m stuck having to let you rub my face in it. These lofty, vague enigmas, written for either of us to read, devoted to her while stringing me along with Maybe Someday In Another Dimension phrases.

-tears-

How do you do it? How can a person be that awful to someone who loved you that goddamn much?

All I wanted was for you to finally see me for what I really was and to let me love you, even just for a little while.

The joke is Eternally on me.