The Secret Diary of Janey Jones

[janeyruth]

body and soul can never be married
you need to become who you already are
and bellow forever at this incongruity
which has committed you to hell

hoping cannot uphold you

you will drown in dysphoria
i in the cold black pond of yourself
i in the pit of your immaterial mind

they will love you
for that which destroys you

the sword in your dreams
the dust of your thoughts
the sickness that breeds
in the folds of your mind

 

[sweepthefloor]

body and soul can never be married
you need to become who you already are
and bellow forever at this incongruity
which has committed you to hell

hoping cannot uphold you

you will drown in dysphoria
i in the cold black pond of yourself
i in the pit of your immaterial mind

they will love you
for that which destroys you

the sword in your dreams
the dust of your thoughts
the sickness that breeds
in the folds of your mind

I don't understand. I'd like the analysis of these words. I can usually read between the lines, but your barrier is too brick.

 

[sweepthefloor]

I have to move on and I don't know how to take the first step of walking on. I only know how to wake up and run, down the country road.

 

[Curious_in_Cali]

I have to move on and I don't know how to take the first step of walking on. I only know how to wake up and run, down the country road.

Just gather the pieces of your heart up in a knapsack and just go. I recommend good shoes, new ones if you need them. Once you start running, don't look back as you won't see the obstacles coming up ahead and that kind of thing can really smart.

 

[sweepthefloor]

Just gather the pieces of your heart up in a knapsack and just go. I recommend good shoes, new ones if you need them. Once you start running, don't look back as you won't see the obstacles coming up ahead and that kind of thing can really smart.

That sounds like a great idea. Tomorrow will be the last run in my old sneakers. I am starting over in many ways, but I will start with the new kind of run. The run that holds the pieces of my heart in a knapsack. I am not sure how my heart got chipped into these parts and it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter because I am taking me back, and running away with it.

 

[Sir_Winston54]

I don't understand. I'd like the analysis of these words. I can usually read between the lines, but your barrier is too brick.

Rather than cluttering up *your* thread, it would be nice if she would take her complete non sequiturs into her own thread.

That sounds like a great idea. Tomorrow will be the last run in my old sneakers. I am starting over in many ways, but I will start with the new kind of run. The run that holds the pieces of my heart in a knapsack. I am not sure how my heart got chipped into these parts and it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter because I am taking me back, and running away with it.

Huzzah! You *are* the guardian of your soul/heart/mind. Cherish them; heal them. They are beautiful, even shattered.

 

[PatchIsMe]

Rather than cluttering up *your* thread, it would be nice if she would take her complete non sequiturs into her own thread.

Huzzah! You *are* the guardian of your soul/heart/mind. Cherish them; heal them. They are beautiful, even shattered.

I agree on both accounts!

 

[sweepthefloor]

Huzzah! You *are* the guardian of your soul/heart/mind. Cherish them; heal them. They are beautiful, even shattered.[/COLOR]

I am the guardian of myself. I wanted him to be the warden but the brig of my soul-ship is on lock down. I have the keys within easy reach in my minds dresser drawer, and I deep-sixed the Admiral again.

I pleased him and pleased him, but I won’t walk the plank for him again. I liked walking the plank, and I loved jumping into the rough salty ocean. I searched for his sea pearls and almost drowned.

He never tossed me a life float. I believed that he would. The sea ripped my clothes off and assaulted me. He watched me struggle.

I climbed back on board naked and pathetic with eyes streaming black mascara, and I said: I don’t want you anymore.

Lust sickness is like seasickness, and the treatment is the same: hold on, and it will pass. Even if it doesn’t pass: I won’t puke cheap and sentimental on his dirty deck.

 

[sweepthefloor]

The caterpillar was in a dark soft cocoon and it sadly thought the world was over—then it became a butterfly. I nurtured the cocoon and sheltered it from his summer storms. The butterfly was beautiful. It landed on my shoulder and fluttered on my neck. It felt so good these flutter-flies in my belly. Then the butterfly flitted away.

I wanted to capture the butterfly in the net of my heart. I chased it all around the country yards, fields and roads. Then I looked at my hand holding the net on a stick and realized that it is cruel to capture such a pretty thing.

I ripped a hole in the net, burned the stick in my wood burner, and I walked away defeated. I want to be the butterfly.

 

[Curious_in_Cali]

The caterpillar was in a dark soft cocoon and it sadly thought the world was over—then it became a butterfly. I nurtured the cocoon and sheltered it from his summer storms. The butterfly was beautiful. It landed on my shoulder and fluttered on my neck. It felt so good these flutter-flies in my belly. Then the butterfly flitted away.

I wanted to capture the butterfly in the net of my heart. I chased it all around the country yards, fields and roads. Then I looked at my hand holding the net on a stick and realized that it is cruel to capture such a pretty thing.

I ripped a hole in the net, burned the stick in my wood burner, and I walked away defeated. I want to be the butterfly.

With gentle fingers and reclaimed heartstrings, stitch your dreams to your back and give yourself permission to fly and you will grow new wings.

 

[sweepthefloor]

With gentle fingers and reclaimed heartstrings, stitch your dreams to your back and give yourself permission to fly and you will grow new wings.

I like that. I will stitch my dreams to my back because they are so large and my back so strong, and then I will run till I fly. I can't wait!

 

[Sir_Winston54]

This thread often provides me with gentle smiles, sometimes with a deep feeling of empathy, and almost always with renewed hope. Thank you for creating and maintaining it.

 

[sweepthefloor]

This thread often provides me with gentle smiles, sometimes with a deep feeling of empathy, and almost always with renewed hope. Thank you for creating and maintaining it.

Thank you for reading me.

 

[sweepthefloor]

The best part of running far away is crawling back. It feels like there are rubber bands in my hips. I run my ass off to pleasure my heart. I crawl back to my heart. I punish my own bottom to satisfy the beating power house in my chest.

 

[sweepthefloor]

It is the phantom heart pain that allows the prosthetic heart to beat in the chest and circulate feeling. This is Neuro analogy, and the cardiac output is adequate.

The phantom pain is not pathological: take it away and you might not function. This is true for amputees learning to walk with a prosthetic limb. The pain of the missing limb gives the brain it’s image of the limb and allows the person to walk with an artificial limb.

This is painful awakening, and I don’t want any morphine.

It is my phantom heart pain that allows my prosthetic heart to beat in my chest and circulate my feelings. This is my Neuro analogy, and my cardiac output is above adequate.

 

[YourCaptor]

It is the phantom heart pain that allows the prosthetic heart to beat in the chest and circulate feeling. This is Neuro analogy, and the cardiac output is adequate.

The phantom pain is not pathological: take it away and you might not function. This is true for amputees learning to walk with a prosthetic limb. The pain of the missing limb gives the brain it’s image of the limb and allows the person to walk with an artificial limb.

This is painful awakening, and I don’t want any morphine.

It is my phantom heart pain that allows my prosthetic heart to beat in my chest and circulate my feelings. This is my Neuro analogy, and my cardiac output is above adequate.

It's cool don't worry, your heart doesn't need you to keep beating.

 

[sweepthefloor]

It's cool don't worry, your heart doesn't need you to keep beating.

The automaticity of the heart muscle cells is pretty amazing! It is so special.
I like to isolate this thought.

 

[Curious_in_Cali]

The automaticity of the heart muscle cells is pretty amazing! It is so special.
I like to isolate this thought.

It is simply stunning the way your carefully uttered whispers never drown out the parump thump of your beautiful, and yes very special .

 

[YourCaptor]

The automaticity of the heart muscle cells is pretty amazing! It is so special.
I like to isolate this thought.

I have a theory that something similar exists in the cerebral cortex, minus muscles of course. A "pulse" in the brain could produce internally cued plasticity, which would allow the brain to autonomously reevaluate and produce it's own rules. This is why all attempts to model the cerebral cortex result in epileptic like crashes. They're sticking it in the wrong end. Scientists

 

[sweepthefloor]

It is simply stunning the way your carefully uttered whispers never drown out the parump thump of your beautiful, and yes very special .

our living metronomes.

 

[sweepthefloor]

I have a theory that something similar exists in the cerebral cortex, minus muscles of course. A "pulse" in the brain could produce internally cued plasticity, which would allow the brain to autonomously reevaluate and produce it's own rules. This is why all attempts to model the cerebral cortex result in epileptic like crashes. They're sticking it in the wrong end. Scientists

I refuse to be brain poked!

 

[sweepthefloor]

I was standing in the kitchen at my cutting board grinding ginger for my rice. He was being the kind neighbor figuring out how to rewire my kitchen so that I can: have a stove and run the washer and dryer at the same time without shorting the whole house out.

I turned to face him. I wanted to be the dumb broad in the kitchen with the red lips on, but he wouldn’t let me. The smarter I get, the more he pursues me.

I said: I am not afraid of you anymore.
He said: I am not afraid of you.
I said: I was never afraid of you.
He said: It was all a big act.
I said: It turned me on.

I am over it and he knows it by the way I look in his eyes. He cannot soften me with his stare. I don’t look down and hide my face in his chest anymore. I have reached a new level of bravery. Unfortunately my strength gives him a rise in his pants. He wants to hunt me.

I said: I can run faster than you.
He said: I can run farther.
I said: You will never catch me.
He said: I will run you down and throw you in the ditch by the side of the road that I know you run by in the dark morning.

I said: I am not afraid of you.
He said: You don’t need a stove.
I said: I have a stove. I need the outlet.
He said: I lost you.
I said: Yes, and I don’t want to talk about it.

 

[sweepthefloor]

The running head is my mouth on his manhood.
The bibliography of my lust is now annotated.
We are all sloppy sources.

 

[DeepGreenEyes]

The running head is my mouth on his manhood.
The bibliography of my lust is now annotated.
We are all sloppy sources.

This is fucking brilliant.

 

[Sir_Winston54]

The running head is my mouth on his manhood.
The bibliography of my lust is now annotated.
We are all sloppy sources.

This is fucking brilliant.

If DGE hadn't said this, I would have. So I do.