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Mental War
SusaKat Released Sep 04, 2011

Death-the almost, the tragic and the cruel

On bad days she is going to kill herself, on good days I’m going to live my life and on most days I say fuck it all.

It’s Friday, September 19th, 2008 I’m off work and driving home; I venture down the back roads. I drive by the river and hills; it’s dark. I round the corner and BAM I snuff out Bambi-goodbye innocent fawn, lithe forest creature. The hit damages the car but I’m scratch free. A bigger deer, a faster speed, a jerk of the wheel and I’m a faded memory. Not my first close call. I’ve flirted with them before, amusing those near mishaps they sneak up on you at the most unexpected times.

Like the time my family and I took a day trip to California’s Great America theme park. At 10 I was stoked traipsing over to the first ride with my older brother Jason and our cousins Leland and Kim. We hop on this rainbow shaped ride, click down goes the safety bar and it starts. Not scary at all, doesn’t go fast, just moves in a clockwise fashion I’m all WEEEE until we hit the highest point and I start to feel myself slip. I grip the bar with all the upper body strength I’ve got (isn’t much-I’m a wimp). Leland sees this happening and grabs a hold of my arm and then Jason and Kim notice and they all start screaming SHUT IT DOWN, SHUT IT DOWN one whole pass through before the guy finally gets it to stop. … Yes an almost death…

Tuesday, September 23rd 2008 after work I speak with my mother. Out her mouth rushes the words crazy day, real bad. The tone of her voice hints at annoyance and for her a bad day is a normal day. In the next breath she say’s Leland was killed this morning in a car accident and his son (Logan) flown to the hospital for emergency surgery. He was driving Logan to school. I miss him. As a kid he taught me the "cool" handshake as an adult I gravitated towards him conversing with ease about life. Our last conversation echoes in my mind, the sound of his voice lingers. …A tragic death, a shock to the system...

On the flip side the burden of knowing is a paralyzing fear. Death is barreling towards someone you love and you’re standing there frozen, helpless trying to calculate how fast, when and what you can do. I live in denial, a fucking perfect state of mind. I refuse to say that she’s dying because we all our, every minute of every day. I refuse to because I am the cheerleader motivating her to fight. Ra, Ra, Ra. She still gets around and to the horror of the public drives. But her suicidal proclamations: I’m going to drive the car into a tree and her outbursts: flying mugs with hot water is transforming me into something hideous, a person I barely recognize. ...A cruel grip, death does have…

The deformities I internalize reflect the person she has become. A hunch where her back once was, skin that drips off her bones, it’s quite frightening. How befitting that her birthday is on Halloween, how ironic that no costume is needed and how peculiar that a line on my face curved upwards is all I need to fool the masses. …But I’m not mad, not mad at all…


Faced with a directional dilemma, unsure and wavering in decision, the little circle simply walked around.

SusaKat May 05, 2011

Gasp! Not again my pessimistic friends
Someone’s let them in
The Humdruming Doldrums, The Boringisms
Uninvited guests, wallowing inducing pests

They pit pat, pit pat pity pat

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I’m tired of being a something or other. Because a something or other just isn’t me.

SusaKat Apr 03, 2011
SusaKat Mar 29, 2011

--Oops I didn't mean to post this in the conversation. :( Chalk it up to being a newbie.

Hooray for this collaboration! I’m inspired by it. Wow, there are many worthy classics out...

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