barbtries a blog

Thursday, May 30, 2002

no, i didn't think so. he wants to take out all of the
text and i want the text. so we will have to compromise.
he's got the bucks, that means the power, right?

i am the one who visits her grave. he has been there
twice since she died; i have been there at least twice
a week. he planted her, but i grew her!

i fucking HATE it when money tells - and money
fucking ALWAYS tells.

i am stressing. mother fucker, motherfucker. despair
sits next to me. sorrow is all i have to wear. there's a
buddha in the box too, explaining to me all about my d
aughter's death in the grand scheme of things. he's a
writer from thoughtcafe and i'm sure he means well.

there's not another person on this planet who can
simply PROVIDE me with answers that will satisfy.
i am the one who can do that, with the help of my
daughter's love and my own. it's desperate, it's
wailing, but it's love nonetheless.

- posted by barbara @ 5/30/2002 11:04:00 PM

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