It's shocking.
The Sociopathic Alcoholic Stalker actually believes that a flower delivery and a few out-of-the-blue declarations of love are all that it would take to worm his way back into my life.
I don't understand. Is this man-logic? Is this one person's hubris? Is this mental illness?
Almost completely unrelated:
I was at the MOMA last night for a UBS sponsored happy hour, and the following happened:
1. Fell in love with this horse.
2. Lost my cell phone, but then found it inside my umbrella.
I love my phone, so I was sad when it was lost, happy when it was found, and yet... a new phone number that not a single stalker knows?
I like it.
We Are Family, My Kangaroo Sisters and Me
-
This article is ten years old now.
But in revisiting this blog, I saw this post among my drafts and had to
publish it.
Had to.
I am not sure to what d...
5 years ago
6 comments:
Sounds like post-coital dementia. Could also be some Stockholm Syndrome - were there whips involved?
Oh just whatever was within easy reach of my bed... ice cubes, my riding crop, a lovely little dagger with a wicked edge, a feather duster. You know, the usual.
I'm laughing at the fact that I write this while sitting on my bed, and I have eyeballed all those items.
"post-coital dementia"
I'm DYING.
I didn't mean you, I meant your victim.. Whoops, finally the Gung Li entry scene, gotta go!
Gong Li.
xie xie
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