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2018-01-15 18:31:17 (UTC)

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"Rock Bottom Riser" by Bill Callahan

I love my mother
I love my father
I love my sisters too

I bought this guitar
To pledge my love
To pledge my love to you

I am a rock
Bottom riser
And I owe it all to you

I saw a gold ring
At the bottom of the river
At my foolish heart
Oh my foolish heart
Had to go diving
Diving diving
Into the murk

And from the bottom of the river
I looked up for the sun
Which had shattered in the water
And the pieces were raining down
Like gold rings
That passed through my hands
As I thrashed and grabbed
I started rising rising

I left my mother
I left my father
Left my sisters too
Left them standing on the banks
And they pulled me out
Of this mighty mighty river
I am a rock
Bottom riser
And I owe it all to you

January 15, 2018 Monday 5:33 PM

I am feeling a little better about the whole thing. I'm still inexplicably angry with Liv, but mostly, yeah, I'm okay. I hung out with Isaac yesterday, which was kind of boring and kind of fun, as always. I also saw Jay from my high school and Laney, 'cause they gave me a ride home. Moby texted me late last night asking if we could go to dinner when I got back to school and I said yes, although I am not sure how I'll feel in a few days. On one hand, I think I am okay—but on the other, I kind of wanted to discuss this whole eventful vacation with Lancelot before I hung out with anyone. Especially anyone with potential romantic feelings towards me. Usually Moby and I cuddle for awhile, but I don't know if I will want to touch anyone. Last time I was in his bed, I silently freaked out and almost cried while he was sleeping. I mean, I won't be spending the night this time probably, but I don't even know if I can stand a few hours of that body heat with. Of that weird, quiet closeness. Not with everything on my mind.

I don't know. Now that a few days have passed, I feel okay about the events of last week. But I don't really want to confront them because they still make my stomach hurt.

I've been doing a 1000 piece puzzle and reading Beloved by Toni Morrison and those two activities have helped a lot in calming me down (also, watching Bob's Burgers has been good). But, like, I just feel like representations of molestation are everywhere???!?!?!?!?!?!?! Like I was watching a video and it mentioned Perks of Being a Wallflower, and I remembered that the main character was molested as a kid. Everywhere I go, there is something to remind me, and even when there isn't it pops up in my head.

And, like, it always makes me feel guilty. Because I wasn't really molested. I don't think. If I'm honest, I really don't remember that much from what happened. I remember the "before" and "after" most clearly. The during? I know there was a pencil in me (I don't remember how it got in there or when it came out). I know she told me to push. That might've been the extent of it, but then I don't know why her fingers would smell then (I know they smelled because she made me smell them). She must have had to touch me a bit to get the pencil in and out, maybe that's why.

No, I don't think I was molested. It would be really convenient, to be able to blame my sexual issues on a singular event, but I don't think that's the case. Sigh.

Okay. I don't feel like writing anymore. I think I'll listen to my music and do some more of my puzzle.

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