On the couch for the TV; Longstay on Holland Doc. Men with shattered lives after violence and crime.

I have ironed my cloth; even the things I would never iron again. I had promised myself that. But memories are vague and this time it is voluntary. Because in this season of life I’ve learned to use my muscles again. Being able to iron means I feel vaguely the old me, lingering inside.

The man on TV says he is frustrated; separated and will be his whole life in this hole.

He is right; I have felt the same frustration being isolated from the outside world. Being in the dark – covered eyes – like a hawk; just waiting for the next unbearable light of being.

It only came after a pink painkiller.

The man has a borderline personality – hmm I thought it was a typical women thing; but no it seems violently psychotic amongst men.

The painkiller gives some relief. I enjoy my season. A little weak and hungry; but also nauseous. It’s the early autumn of life. And as I wander through this phase I have all the time to write my memories.

What it is to be like an ordinary woman; having kids, aspirations and illnesses. From the heights of joy into the abyss of the darkness of mind. 2011 is two thousand years of female evolution after Christ. And we are not there yet.

We still evolve. And I enjoy my time thinking. Like a twirling autumn leave slowly to the ground of essence.

It’s all me, myself and I.

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