Jesus, they say time heals all wounds, but it's been nearly 40 years since fucking Doug...whom I never did get to fuck. But he made damn sure it worked the other way around. Times ten. Nearly 40 years...and memory of him came screaming out of nowhere.
He was the asshole who finally showed me I was unworthy of love or...or anything. I was just there to be used. And I've internalized that so much, it's part of my DNA. My only outlet is the books I write.
I've been celibate since June 1984...for a lot of reasons...but seeing what was happening to friends and guys I knew...in Austin and San Antonio and Houston...that sealed it. As did still being scarred by Doug's bullshit.
Good thing is, I'm at home. No explanations needed. No justifications or anything. I can mope as much as I want. Growl. Remember...
I'm trying to cleanse myself by focusing on costing out a potential job, making a pot roast to feast upon, and watching an old movie.
Diva. 1982. I saw it at an advanced screening in Austin, when I was at UT. Exquisite. Wilhelminia Wiggins Fernandez couldn't act worth a damn, on film, but oh God how she could sing...and the visuals...
Maybe I'll rewatch Gone With the Wind, tomorrow. Best movie ever made in Hollywood, bar none. That's taken me back to my comfort zone, in the past. I know it has issues, but what film doesn't?
FWIW, the pot roast turned out good...and did help, some...
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