Okay so last night, I had two dreams that were very different.

In the first, I was back in high school, and got word of something happening at my school.

I walked to the school, and found that several student had been killed, and others injured, in what appeared to be a mass shooting.

I joined the shocked survivors in the cafeteria, feeling helpless and guilty for not having been there.

so yesterday I helped my aunt get to a dentist appointment, then took her grocery shopping, then mom and I did our own grocery shopping, and ended up going to Costco for paper products before making our way home.

I'd celebrate getting so much done, but I also popped my hip and pulled a muscle in my groin, and after I got home I broke my computer chair, so my celebration is kind of muted.

ah, well.

Lets hope so!

so yesterday I went to the phone store to try and straighten out what's going on with my cell phone, and the experience was just a bunch of gut-punches

Not only did I spend almost an hour there and accomplished nothing, the whole time both the in store person and the phone help person insisted on using male pronouns for me, even after me showing them my ID that said my name is Dorothy.

I am now hurting badly, and wish I could just hide from the world forever.

and other random things!

So last night, I had a very encouraging dream.

I was back in high school, as Dorothy, and although I had challenges, I kept working on solutions.

Like I would forget a book in my locker, and just go back for it without panicking.

Or I would be unsure of what my next class was, and go to the office and get a new copy of my schedule.

Or a teacher would ask for my legal name, and I responded with "Dorothy" without hesitation.

As I said, I found this dream very encouraging.

I must like to punish myself.

Right now, I've been re-reading "The Chronicles of Thomas Covenant" and once more feeling all the parallels between myself and the character Linden Avery

If that wasn't enough, I just finished binge-watching "Moon Knight" and I can really relate to the main character broken psyche as well.

I wish I could figure out why I'm doing this . . .

Ever heard of them? People seem to believe that you must be an owned slave to wear one.

I occasionally check "My Stories" to see if anyone has been masochistic enough to read one or at least registered a hit or very rarely a new comment. I don't claim they have any literary value but obviously they have a sentimental value for me. I sometimes think of something that might improve what I wrote and today was one of those days.

However I was surprised to find that the text of each story that I checked had vanished. All the comments seem to have survived but the story itself has disappeared. Please, Admin people, can you restore them?

Note that this describes the death of a pet.

Well what else can you do?

So on Monday 9am sharp, I set off to start my trip to the Jurassic coast. There was no need to rush, I had all day, besides which it was a bit windy. I headed towards the North Somerset coast before turning south to cross the western end of the Mendip, familiar roads.

What is happening? Tension and anxiety seep into my existence as I think about the political insanity coming in 2024. Thoughts of suicide have been absent for a few years now. Those relatives I most valued don't speak to me because they have allowed their imaginationings about my morality to run amok though lately I wonder what it would be like to have a man rod me out with vigor. That neovagina that I paid so much for in 2007 has remained unused. How stupid I was to believe the fantasy that I could ever be seen as anything but a female pretender.

The hot news from sticky Brizzle is that i've managed to complete the next chapter of Book 28 in basically one sitting (save for food and drink). Its up on Patreon now and i'll be starting the next chapter probably on Sunday!

Off for a walk now, see you Sunday

yep, true to form, the schools go back and the sun comes out!

I need someone to take a look at a new story.

Any volunteers?

.

Confessional

I was a young man once; it seems
So long ago – a different place.
The landscape’s still familiar, though.
Familiar as that young man’s face.
I had a young man’s dreams, back then –
The race to run, the world to win –
But other dreams I had as well,
Because my Emma was within.

Oh for some less changeable weather.

Well it could've gone either way!

I hate to be a bother. We so often write about things for which we hope, but also things for which we dread!

I'm receiving unwanted messages from someone here and I do not want that. I'll leave them unnamed for now.

Gwen